GEISEL  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SAN  OttCiU 

LA  JOLLA.  CALIFORNIA 


MEMOIRS    OF 

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PORTRAIT     OF     MARIE     ANTOINETTE 
BY     MME.     VIGEE     EEBBUN 

(he  original  in  the  Museum  at  Versailles 


MEMOIRS    OF 
MARIE     ANTOINETTE 

Queen  of  France  and  Wife  of  Louis  XVI 

BY    MADAME    CAMPAN 
Her  Lady-in-  Wailing 


With   a    Special  Introduction 
and   Illustrations 


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NEW    YORK 

P     F     COLLIER     &     SON 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright  iqio 
By  P.  F.  Collier  &  Son 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction 13 

CHAPTER  I 

The  Court  of  Louis  XV.— His  Character.— The  King's  De- 
botter. — Characters  of  Mesdames  His  Daughters —Re- 
treat of  Madame  Louise  to  the  Carmelites  of  St.  Denis. — 
Madame  du  Barry. — The  Court  Divided  between  the  Party 
of  the  Due  de  Choiseul  and  That  of  the  Due  d'Aiguillon      17 

CHAPTER  II 

Birth  of  Marie  Antoinette  Attended  by  a  Memorable  Calam- 
ity.— Maria  Theresa's  Character. — Education  of  the  Arch- 
duchesses.— Preceptors  Provided  for  Marie  Antoinette  by 
the  Court  of  Vienna. — Preceptor  Sent  Her  by  the  Court  of 
France.— Abbe  de  Vermond. — Change  in  the  French  Min- 
istry.— Cardinal  de  Rohan  Succeeds  Baron  de  Breteuil  as 
Ambassador  at  Vienna. — Portrait  of  That  Prelate       .       .      31 

CHAPTER  III 

Arrival  of  the  Archduchess  in  France. — Brilliant  Reception 
of  the  Dauphiness  at  Versailles. — She  Charms  Louis  XV. 
— Madame  du  Barry's  Jealousy. — Court  Intrigues. — The 
Dauphin. — His  Brothers  and  Their  Wives     ....      41 

CHAPTER  IV 

Death  of  Louis  XV. — Picture  of  the  Court— Madame  du 
Barry  Dismissed. — Departure  of  the  Court  to  Choisy. — 
M.  de  Maurepas  Minister. — Conduct  of  the  Abbe  de  Ver- 
mond           ...     56 

CHAPTER  V 

Influence  of  Example  upon  the  Courtiers. — Enthusiasm 
Raised  by  the  New  Reign. — Mourning  at  La  Muette. — The 

Vol.  3  3  Memoirs— 1 


4  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Queen. — The  King  and  the  Princes,  His  Brothers,  Are 
Inoculated. — Stay  at  Marly. — Calumnies  against  the  Queen. 
— Boehmer,  the  Jeweller. — Mademoiselle  Bertin. — Changes 
of  Fashion. — Simplicity  of  the  Court  of  Vienna. — Ex- 
treme Temperance,  Decorum,  and  Modesty  of  Marie  An- 
toinette.— The  Code  of  Service. — Public  Dinners. — The 
Queen's  Wardrobe. — Her  Toilet. — Daily  Routine. — Hear- 
ing Mass 63 

CHAPTER  VI 

Examination  of  the  Papers  of  Louis  XV.  by  Louis  XVI. — 
Man  in  the  Iron  Mask. — The  Late  King's  Interest  in  Cer- 
tain Financial  Companies. — Representation  of  "  Iphigenia 
in  Aulis." — The  King  Gives  Petit  Trianon  to  the  Queen. 
— The  Archduke  Maximilian's  Journey  to  France. — Ques- 
tions of  Precedence. — Misadventure  of  the  Archduke. — 
Accouchement  of  the  Comtesse  d'Artois. — The  Poissardes 
Cry  Out  to  the  Queen  to  Give  Heirs  to  the  Throne. — 
Death  of  the  Due  de  La  Vauguyon. — Portrait  of  Louis 
XVI. ;  of  the  Comte  de  Provence;  of  the  Comte  d'Artois    83 

CHAPTER  VII 

Severe  Winter. — The  Princesse  de  Lamballe  Appointed  Su- 
perintendent of  the  Household. — The  Comtesse  Jules  de 
Polignac  Appears  at  Court. — M.  de  Vaudreuil. — Due  and 
Duchesse  de  Duras. — Fashionable  Games       ....     96 

CHAPTER  VIII 

The  Due  de  Choiseul  Returns  to  Court. — The  Queen  Obtains 
a  Pension  of  1,200  Francs  for  Chamfort. — She  Invites 
Gluck  to  France  and  Patronises  Music. — Encouragement 
Given  to  the  Art  of  Printing.— Turgot— M.  de  Saint- 
Germain. — Amusements  at  Court. — Particulars  of  the 
Household. — Masked  Balls  at  the  Opera. — The  Queen  Goes 
There  in  a  Fiacre;  Slanderous  Reports. — The  Heron 
Plume. — The  Due  de  Lauzun. — The  Queen's  Attachment 
to  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe  and  the  Duchesse  de  Poli- 
gnac.— Anecdote  of  the  Abbe  de  Vermond    .       .       .       .107 

CHAPTER  IX 

Joseph  II. 's  Visit  to  France. — His  Reception  at  the  Opera. — 
Fete  Given  to  Him  by  the  Queen  at  Trianon. — The  Queen 


CONTENTS  5 

PAGE 

Enceinte. — Voltaire's  Return  to  Paris. — Duel  between 
the  Comte  d'Artois  and  the  Due  de  Bourdon. — Return  of 
the  Chevalier  d'Eon  to  France. — Particulars  Relative  to 
His  Missions,  and  the  Causes  of  His  Disguise. — Night 
Promenades  upon  the  Terrace  of  Trianon. — Couplets 
against  the  Queen. — Indignation  of  Louis  XVI. — Birth 
of  Madame 121 

CHAPTER  X 

Public  Rejoicing. — Death  of  Maria  Theresa;  the  Queen's 
Affliction. — Anecdotes  of  Maria  Theresa. — Birth  of  the 
Dauphin. — Bankruptcy  of  the  Prince  de  Guemenee. — 
The  Duchesse  de  Polignac  Is  Appointed  Governess  of  the 
Children  of  France. — Jealousy  of  the  Court. — Mode  of 
Life  at  Trianon. — Presumption  of  the  Due  de  Fronsac. — 
American  War. — Franklin. — M.  de  La  Fayette. — Order 
for  Admitting  None  but  Gentlemen  to  the  Rank  of 
Officer. — Spirit  of  the  Third  Estate 139 


CHAPTER  XI 

Visit  of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Russia  and  His  Duchess  to 
France. — Entertainment  and  Supper  at  Trianon. — Cardi- 
nal de  Rohan. — Cold  Reception  Given  to  Comte  d'Haga 
(Gustavus  III.,  King  of  Sweden). — Peace  with  Eng- 
land.— The  English  Flock  into  France. — Conduct  to  be 
Observed  at  Court. — Mission  of  the  Chevalier  de  Bressac 
to  the  Queen. — Court  of  Naples. — Queen  Caroline. — 
The  Minister  Acton. — Debates  between  the  Courts  of 
Naples  and  Madrid. — Insolent  Reply  of  the  Spanish  Am- 
bassador to  Queen  Caroline. — Interference  of  France. — 
MM.  de  Segur  and  de  Castries  Appointed  Ministers 
through  the  Queen's  Influence. — Treachery  of  M.  de 
Maurepas  towards  M.  Necker. — Appointment  of  M.  de 
Calonne. — Observations  of  Marie  Antoinette       .       .       .   158 


CHAPTER  XII 

The  Queen  Is  Dissatisfied  with  the  Appointment  of  M.  de 
Calonne. — Acts  of  Benevolence. — Purchase  of  St.  Cloud. — 
Regulations  of  Internal  Police. — State  of  France. — Beau- 
marchais. — "  Manage  de  Figaro." — Character  of  M.  de 
Vaudreuil 176 


6  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XIII 

PAGE 

The  Diamond  Necklace. — Account  of  Bcehmer,  the  Jew- 
eller.— His  Interview  with  Madame  Campan. — The  Cardi- 
nal de  Rohan  Interrogated  in  the  King's  Cabinet. — 
Particulars  Relative  to  Madame  de  Lamotte  and  Her 
Family. — Steps  Taken  by  the  Cardinal's  Relations. — The 
Prosecution.— The  Clergy  Remonstrate.— Decree  of  the 
Parliament. — The  Queen's  Grief. — Remark  of  Louis 
XVI 187 

CHAPTER  XIV 

The  Archbishop  of  Sens  Is  Appointed  to  the  Ministry.— The 
Abbe  de  Vermond's  Joy  on  the  Occasion.— The  Queen 
Is  Obliged  to  Take  a  Part  in  Business.— Money  Sent  to 
Vienna  Contrary  to  Her  Inclination. — Anecdotes. — The 
Queen  Supports  the  Archbishop  of  Sens  in  Office- 
Public  Rejoicings  on  His  Dismissal.— Opening  of  the 
States  General.— Cries  of  "Vive  le  Due  d' Orleans!  "— 
Their  Effect  upon  the  Queen.— Mirabeau—  He  Requests 
an  Embassy.— Misfortunes  Induce  the  Queen  to  Yield 
to  Superstitious  Fears.— Anecdotes.— Prejudices  of  the 
Provincial  Deputies  of  the  Tiers  Etat—  Causes  of  These 
Prejudices.— Death  of  the  First  Dauphin.— Anecdotes       .  205 

CHAPTER  XV 

"  Oath  of  the  Tennis  Court."— Insurrection  of  the  14th  of 
july _The  King  Goes  to, the  National  Assembly.— Anec- 
dotes.—Spectacle  Presented  by  the  Courtyards  of  the 
Chateau  of  Versailles.— Report  that  the  National  Assem- 
bly Is  Threatened.— The  King's  Speech  Rebutting  These 
Suspicions. — Anecdotes. — Disposition  of  the  Troops- 
Departure  of  the  Comte  d'Artois ;  the  Prince  de  Conde, 
and  the  Due  and  Duchesse  de  Polignac— The  Latter  Is 
Recognised  by  a  Postilion,  Who  Saves  Her.— The  King 
Goes  to  Paris.— Alarm  at  Versailles.— The  Queen  Deter- 
mines to  Go  to  the  National  Assembly.— Speech  Prepared 
by  Her.— The  King's  Return— Bailly's  Speech.— Assassi- 
nation of  MM.  Foulon  and  Berthier—  Plans  Presented 
by  Foulon  to  the  King  for  Arresting  the  Progress  of  the 
Revolution.— Remark  by  Barnave.— His   Repentance  .       .   218 

CHAPTER  XVI 

Creation  of  the  National  Guard.— Departure  of  the  Abbe  de 
Vermond.— The  Queen  Desires  Madame  Campan  to  Por- 


CONTENTS  7 

PAGE 

tray  His  Character. — The  French  Guards  Quit  Ver- 
sailles.— Entertainment  Given  by  the  Body  Guards  to  the 
Regiment  of  Flanders. — The  King,  the  Queen,  and  the 
Dauphin  Are  Present  at  It. — Proceedings  of  the  5th  and 
6th  of  October. — Detestable  Threats  against  the  Queen. — 
Devotion  of  One  of  the  Body  Guard. — The  Life  of  Marie 
Antoinette  in  Danger. — The  Queen  Is  Required  to  Appear 
on  the  Balcony. — The  Royal  Family  Repair  to  Paris.— 
Residence  at  the  Tuileries. — Change  of  Feeling. — The 
Queen  Applauded  with  Enthusiasm  by  the  Women  of  the 
Populace. — Private  Life. — Ingenuous  Observations  of  the 
Dauphin. — It  Is  Proposed  that  the  Queen  Shall  Quit  Her 
Family  and  France. — Her  Noble  Refusal. — She  Devotes 
Herself  to  the  Education  of  Her  Children. — Picture  of  the 
Court. — Anecdote  of  Luckner. — Exasperated  State  of 
Feeling 230 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Loyalty  of  M.  de  Favras. — His  Prosecution  and  Death. — 
His  Children  Are  Imprudently  Presented  to  the  Queen. — 
Plan  Laid  for  Carrying  off  the  Royal  Family. — Singular 
Letter  from  the  Empress  Catherine  to  Louis  XVI. — The 
Queen  Is  Unwilling  to  Owe  the  Reestablishment  of  the 
Throne  to  the  Emigres. — Death  of  the  Emperor  Joseph 
II. — First  Negotiation  between  the  Court  and  Mira- 
beau. — Louis  XVI.  and  His  Family  Inhabit  St.  Cloud. — 
New  Plans  for  Escaping 252 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

First  Federation. — Attempts  to  Assassinate  the  Queen. — 
Affecting  Scene. — Account  of  the  Affair  of  Nancy, 
Written  by  Madame  Campan,  at  Night,  in  the  Council 
Chamber,  by  the  King's  Dictation. — Madame  Campan 
Becomes  the  Subject  of  Calumnious  Denunciation. — 
Marks  of  Confidence  Bestowed  upon  Her  by  the  Queen. — 
Interview  between  the  Queen  and  Mirabeau  in  the  Gar- 
dens of  St.  Cloud. — He  Treats  with  the  Court. — Ridicule 
of  the  Revolutionary  Party. — Stones  of  the  Bastille  Of- 
fered to  the  Dauphin. — The  Queen  Feels  Her  Aversion  to 
M.  de  La  Fayette  Increase. — Plan  Formed  by  the  Princes 
for  Reentering  France  through  Lyons. — Imprudence  of 
Persons  Attached  to  the  Queen. — Anecdote  Relative  to 
M.  de  La  Fayette. — Departure  of  the  King's  Aunts. — 
Death  of  Mirabeau 263 


8  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XIX 

PAGE 

Preparations  for  the  Journey  to  Varennes. — The  Queen 
Watched  and  Betrayed. — Madame  Campan's  Departure 
for  Auvergne  Precedes  That  of  the  Royal  Family  for 
Versailles. — Madame  Campan  Hears  of  the  King's  Arrest. 
— Xote  Written  to  Her  by  the  Queen  Immediately 
upon  Her  Return  to  Paris. — Anecdotes. — Measures  Taken 
for  Keeping  the  King  at  the  Tuileries. — Barnave  Gains 
the  Esteem  and  Confidence  of  Marie  Antoinette  during 
the  Return  from  Varennes. — His  Honourable  and  Re- 
spectful Conduct. — She  Contrasts  It  with  That  of  Petion. 
— Bravery  of  Barnave. — His  Advice  to  the  Queen. — Par- 
ticulars Respecting  the  Varennes  Journey     ....  275 

CHAPTER  XX 

Acceptance  of  the  Constitution. — Opinion  of  Barnave  and 
His  Friends  Approved  by  the  Court  of  Vienna. — Secret 
Policy  of  the  Court. — The  Legislative  Assembly  Delib- 
erates upon  the  Ceremony  to  Be  Observed  on  Receiving 
the  King. — Offensive  Motion. — Louis  XVI.  Is  Received  by 
the  Assembly  with  Transport. — He  Gives  Way  to  Pro- 
found Grief  When  with  His  Family. — Public  Fetes  and 
Rejoicings. — M.  de  Montmorin's  Conversation  with 
Madame  Campan  upon  the  Continual  Indiscretions  of  the 
People  about  the  Court. — The  Royal  Family  Go  to  the 
Theatre  Frangais. — Play  Changed. — Personal  Conflicts  in 
the  Pit  of  the  Italiens. — Double  Correspondence  of  the 
Court  with  Foreign  Powers. — Maison  Civile. — The 
Queen's  Misfortunes  Do  Not  Alter  the  Sweetness  of  Her 
Disposition. — Method  Adopted  by  the  Queen  Respecting 
Her  Secret  Correspondence. — Madame  Campan's  Con- 
duct When  Attacked  by  Both  Parties. — Particulars  Re- 
specting M.  Genet,  Her  Brother,  Charge  d' Affaires  from 
France  to  Russia. — Written  Testimony  of  the  Queen  in 
Favour  of  Madame  Campan's  Zeal  and  Fidelity. — The 
King  Comes  to  See  Her,  and  Confirms  These  Marks  of 
Confidence  and  Satisfaction. — Projected  Interview  be- 
tween Louis  XVI.  and  Barnave. — Attempts  to  Poison 
Louis  XVI. — Precautions  Taken. — The  Queen  Consults 
Pitt  about  the  Revolution. — His  Reply. — The  Emigres 
Oppose  All  Alliance  with  the  Constitutionals. — Letter 
from   Barnave  to   the   Queen 295 

CHAPTER  XXI 

Fresh  Libel  by  Madame  de  Lamotte. — The  Queen  Refuses 
to   Purchase   the   Manuscript. — The   King   Buys    It. — The 


CONTENTS  9 

PAGE 

Queen  Performs  Her  Easter  Devotions  Secretly  in  1792. 
— She  Dares  Not  Confide  in  General  Dumouriez. — Bar- 
nave's  Last  Advice. — Insults  Offered  to  the  Royal  Family 
by  the  Mob. — The  King's  Dejection. — 20th  of  June. — The 
King's  Kindness  to  Madame  Campan. — Iron  Closet. — 
Louis  XVI.  Entrusts  a  Portfolio  to  Madame  Campan. — 
Importance  of  the  Documents  It  Contained. — Procedure 
of  M.  de  La  Fayette. — Why  It  Was  Unsuccessful. — 
An  Assassin  Conceals  Himself  in  the  Queen's  Apart- 
ments   320 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Madame  Campan's  Communications  with  M.  Bertrand  de 
Molleville  for  the  King's  Service. — Hope  of  a  Speedy 
Deliverance. — The  Queen's  Reflections  upon  the  Character 
of  Louis  XVI. — Insults. — Inquiry  Set  on  Foot  by  the 
Princesse  de  Lamballe  Respecting  the  Persons  of  the 
Queen's  Household. — The  10th  of  August. — Curious  Par- 
ticulars.— Battle. — Scenes  of  Carnage. — The  Royal  Family 
at  the  Feuillans 337 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

Petion  Refuses  Madame  Campan  Permission  to  Be  Impris- 
oned in  the  Temple  with  the  Queen. — She  Excites  the 
Suspicions  of  Robespierre. — Domiciliary  Visits. — Madame 
Campan  Opens  the  Portfolio  She  Had  Received  from  the 
King. — Papers  in  It,  with  the  Seals  of  State. — Mirabeau's 
Secret  Correspondence  with  the  Court. — Destroyed  as 
Well  as  the  Other  Papers. — The  Only  Document  Pre- 
served.— It  Is  Delivered  to  M.  de  Malesherbes  on  the 
Trial  of  the  Unfortunate  Louis  XVI. — The  Royal 
Family  in  the  Temple. — Trial  of  the  King. — Parting  of 
the  Royal  Family. — Execution. — The  Royal  Prisoners. — 
Separation  of  the  Dauphin  from  His  Family. — Removal 
of  the  Queen. — The  Last  Moments  of  Marie  Antoinette. 
— The  Last  Separation. — Execution  of  Madame  Elisa- 
beth.— Death  of  the  Dauphin. — Release  of  Madame 
Royale. — Her  Marriage  to  the  Due  d'Angouleme. — Return 
to  France. — Death. — The  Ceremony  of  Expiation     .       .  359 


NOTE 


The  following  titles 
ing  the  period  covered 
monseigneur 
Monsieur 


Monsieur  le  Prince 
Monsieur  le  Due 

Monsieur  le  Grand 

Monsieur  le  Premier 

Enfans  de  France 
Madame      { 
Mesdames  $ 


Madame  Elisabeth 
Madame  Royale  . 

Mademoiselle 


have  the  signification  given  below  dur- 
by  this  work: 

.    The  Dauphin. 

.  The  eldest  brother  of  the  King, 
Comte  de  Provence,  after- 
wards Louis  XVIII. 

.  The  Prince  de  Condi,  head  of  the 
House  of  Conde. 

.  The  Due  de  Bourbon,  the  eldest 
son  of  the  Prince  de  Conde 
{and  the  father  of  the  Due 
d'Enghien    shot    by   Napoleon). 

.  The  Grand  Equerry  under  the 
ancien  regime. 

.  The  First  Equerry  under  the  an- 
cien regime. 

.    The  royal  children. 

.  Sisters  or  daughters  of  the  King, 
or  Princesses  near  the  Throne 
(sometimes  used  also  for  the 
wife  of  Monsieur,  the  eldest 
brother  of  the  King,  the 
Princesses  Adelaide,  Victoire, 
Sophie,  Louise,  daughters  of 
Louis  XV.,  and  aunts  of  Louis 
XVI.). 

.  The  Princesse  Elisabeth,  sister  of 
Louis  XVI. 

.  The  Princesse  Marie  Therese, 
daughter  of  Louis  XVI.,  af- 
terwards Duchesse  d'Angou- 
leme. 

.  The  daughter  of  Monsieur,  the 
brother  of  the  King. 


INTRODUCTION 

The  closing  years  of  the  French  monarchy  could 
scarcely  have  found  a  more  faithful  chronicler,  or  one 
better  fitted  for  the  task  both  by  training  and  situation, 
than  Madame  Campan.  Introduced  into  the  Court  of 
Louis  XV.  as  a  young  girl,  she  became  one  of  the 
household  of  Marie  Antoinette  immediately  after  that 
princess  came  from  Austria  to  wed  the  Dauphin ;  and 
followed  the  fortunes  of  her  royal  mistress  with  un- 
swerving devotion  until  the  prison  gates  separated 
them.  Even  then  she  would  not  have  turned  aside 
— despite  the  ominous  shadow  of  the  scaffold — had 
not  the  interests  of  her  mistress  and  an  inexorable 
jailer  alike  demanded  it. 

But  it  is  not  through  loyalty  alone  that  Madame 
Campan  deserves  recognition  as  a  biographer  and 
historian.  Her  education  and  endowments,  which 
rendered  her  remarkable  even  at  a  tender  age,  ripened 
with  especial  opportunities  and   experience. 

Jeanne  Louise  Henriette  Genet  was  born  in  Paris, 
October  6,  1752.  Her  father  was  first  clerk  in  the 
Foreign  Office,  and  this  position  brought  him  into 
touch  with  men  of  affairs  and  culture  from  all  over 
the  world.  His  home  was  one  of  quiet  refinement,  in 
which  the  talents  of  his  daughter  found  full  develop- 
ment. Her  progress  in  music  and  languages  was 
rapid.  Albaneze  instructed  her  in  singing,  and  Gol- 
doni  in  Italian.  She  was  equally  proficient  in  English. 
Tasso,  Milton,  Dante,  and  Shakespeare  were  read  in 

13 


14  INTRODUCTION 

the  original.  She  was  also  apt  in  elocution,  reciting 
passages  in  Racine  and  Moliere  to  delighted  audiences. 

Such  a  prodigy  was  soon  spoken  of  at  Court,  and 
she  presently  obtained  a  place  as  reader  to  the 
Princesses — the  four  daughters  of  Louis  XV.  "I 
was  then  fifteen,"  she  says;  "my  father  felt  some 
regret  at  yielding  me  up  at  so  early  an  age  to  the 
jealousies  of  the  Court.  The  day  on  which  I  first  put 
on  my  Court  dress,  and  went  to  embrace  him  in  his 
study,  tears  filled  his  eyes,  and  mingled  with  the  ex- 
pression of  his  pleasure." 

She  stood  somewhat  in  awe  of  the  King,  who  was 
fond  of  jokes  at  others'  expense.  "Louis  XV,"  she 
says,  "had  the  most  imposing  presence.  His  eyes  re- 
mained fixed  upon  you  all  the  time  he  was  speaking; 
and,  notwithstanding  the  beauty  of  his  features,  he 
inspired  a  sort  of  fear.  I  was  very  young,  it  is  true, 
when  he  first  spoke  to  me;  you  shall  judge  whether  it 
was  in  a  very  gracious  manner.  I  was  fifteen.  The 
King  was  going  out  to  hunt,  and  a  numerous  retinue 
followed  him.  As  he  stopped  opposite  me  he  said : 
'Mademoiselle  Genet,  I  am  assured  you  are  very 
learned,  and  understand  four  or  five  foreign  lan- 
guages.' T  only  know  two.  Sire,'  I  answered,  trem- 
bling. 'Which  are  they?'  'English  and  Italian.'  'Do 
you  speak  them  fluently?'  'Yes,  Sire,  very  fluently.' 
'That  is  quite  enough  to  drive  a  husband  mad.'  After 
this  pretty  compliment  the  King  went  on;  the  retinue 
saluted  me,  laughing;  and,  for  my  part,  I  remained 
for  some  moments  motionless  with  surprise  and  con- 
fusion." 

When  Marie  Antoinette  was  married  to  the 
Dauphin,  afterwards  Louis  XVI,  Mademoiselle  Genet 
became  the  wife  of  Campari,  son  of  the  Queen's 
secretary.  The  King  himself  gave  her  a  dowry,  show- 
ing that  he  was  not  greatly  alarmed  about  her  mar- 


INTRODUCTION  15 

riageability  despite  his  jests,  and  she  became  reader 
and  companion  to  the  Dauphiness.  Thenceforth  a 
close  sincere  attachment  was  maintained  between  the 
two,  which  was  to  bear  fruit  in  the  volume  of  Memoirs 
written  by  Madame  Campan  in  her  old  age. 

After  the  stormy  events  leading  to  the  death  of 
Louis  XVI.  and  his  Queen,  Madame  Campan  fled 
from  Paris  carrying  valuable  state  papers  on  behalf 
of  her  mistress,  and  during  the  Reign  of  Terror  re- 
mained concealed  at  Combertin.  After  the  fall  of 
Robespierre  she  opened  a  female  boarding  school  at 
St.  Germain,  where  among  other  pupils  she  received 
Hortense,  daughter  of  Josephine  de  Beauharnais. 
When  the  latter  married  Bonaparte  he  took  lively  in- 
terest in  Madame  Campan,  appointing  her  lady  super- 
intendent of  the  institution  founded  by  him  at  Ecouen, 
for  the  education  of  daughters  of  officers  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour.  After  the  Restoration  this  school 
was  suppressed,  and  Madame  Campan,  again  an  exile, 
retired  to  Mantes,  where  she  died,  in  1822. 

In  her  declining  years  her  mind  reverted  to  her  life 
at  Court,  and  she  set  herself  the  devoted  task  of  clear- 
ing the  memory  of  its  ill-fated  Queen.  She  has  done 
far  more  than  this  in  the  resulting  work,  "Memoires 
sur  la  Vie  Privee  de  la  Reine  Marie  Antoinette."  It 
is  an  exceedingly  valuable  source-book  of  history  filled 
with  personal  impressions  of  a  momentous  period.  She 
gives  her  reasons  for  writing,  in  the  following  memo- 
randum left  with  the  original  work : 

"Louis  XVI  meant  to  write  his  own  Memoirs ;  the 
manner  in  which  his  private  papers  were  arranged 
indicated  this  design.  The  Queen  also  had  this  inten- 
tion; she  long  preserved  a  large  correspondence,  and 
a  great  number  of  minute  reports,  made  in  the  spirit 
and  upon  the  event  of  the  moment.  But  after  the 
20th  day  of  June,  1792,  she  was  obliged  to  burn  a 


16  INTRODUCTION 

large  portion  of  what  she  had  collected,  and  the  re- 
mainder were  conveyed  out  of  France. 

"Considering  the  rank  and  situation  of  persons 
capable  of  elucidating  by  their  writings  the  history 
of  our  political  storms,  it  will  not  be  imagined  that  I 
aim  at  placing  myself  on  a  level  with  them ;  but  I  have 
spent  half  my  life  either  with  the  daughters  of  Louis 
XV  or  with  Marie  Antoinette.  I  knew  the  character 
of  those  Princesses;  I  became  privy  to  some  extraor- 
dinary facts,  the  publication  of  which  may  be  inter- 
esting, and  the  truth  of  the  details  will  form  the  merit 
of  my  work. 

"Twenty  years  before  the  Revolution  I  often  heard 
it  remarked  that  the  imposing  character  of  the  power 
of  Louis  XIV  was  no  longer  to  be  found  in  the  Palace 
of  Versailles ;  that  the  institutions  of  the  ancient  mon- 
archy were  rapidly  sinking;  and  that  the  people, 
crushed  beneath  the  weight  of  taxes,  were  miserable, 
though  silent;  but  that  they  began  to  give  ear  to  the 
bold  speeches  of  the  philosophers,  who  loudly  pro- 
claimed their  sufferings  and  their  rights ;  and,  in  short, 
that  the  age  would  not  pass  away  without  the  oc- 
currence of  some  great  outburst,  which  would  unsettle 
France,  and  change  the  course  of  its  progress. 

"Destiny  having  formerly  placed  me  near  crowned 
heads,  I  now  amuse  my  solitude  when  in  retirement 
with  collecting  a  variety  of  facts  which  may  prove 
interesting  to  my  family  when  I  shall  be  no  more. 
I  have  put  together  all  that  concerned  the  domestic 
life  of  an  unfortunate  princess,  whose  reputation  is 
not  yet  cleared  of  the  stains  it  received  from  the  at- 
tacks of  calumny,  and  who  justly  merited  a  different 
lot  in  life,  a  different  place  in  the  opinion  of  mankind 
after  her  fall." 


MEMOIRS  OF  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 


CHAPTER  I 

I  WAS  fifteen  years  of  age  when  I  was  appointed 
reader  to  Mesdames.  I  will  begin  by  describing 
the  Court  at  that  period. 

Maria  Leczinska  was  just  dead;  the  death  of  the 
Dauphin  had  preceded  hers  by  three  years;  the  Jesuits 
were  suppressed,  and  piety  was  to  be  found  at  Court 
only  in  the  apartments  of  Mesdames.  The  Due  de 
Choiseul  ruled. 

Etiquette  still  existed  at  Court  with  all  the  forms  it 
had  acquired  under  Louis  XIV.;  dignity  alone  was 
wanting.  As  to  gaiety,  there  was  none.  Versailles 
was  not  the  place  at  which  to  seek  for  assemblies 
where  French  spirit  and  grace  were  displayed.  The 
focus  of  wit  and  intelligence  was  Paris. 

The  King  thought  of  nothing  but  the  pleasures 
of  the  chase :  it  might  have  been  imagined  that  the 
courtiers  indulged  themselves  in  making  epigrams 
by  hearing  them  say  seriously,  on  those  days  when 
the  King  did  not  hunt,  "  The  King  does  nothing 
to-day." 

The  arrangement  beforehand  of  his  movements  was 
also  a  matter  of  great  importance  with  Louis  XV.  On 
the  first  day  of  the  year  he  noted  down  in  his  alma- 
nac the  days  of  departure  for  Compiegne,  Fontaine- 
bleau,  Choisy,  etc.  The  weightiest  matters,  the  most 
serious  events,  never  deranged  this  distribution  of  his 
time. 

17 


i8  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

Since  the  death  of  the  Marquise  de  Pompadour,  the 
King  had  no  titled  mistress;  he  contented  himself 
with  his  seraglio  in  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs.  It  is  well 
known  that  the  monarch  found  the  separation  of  Louis 
de  Bourbon  from  the  King  of  France  the  most  ani- 
mating feature  of  his  royal  existence.  "  They  would 
have  it  so;  they  thought  it  for  the  best,"  was  his  way 
of  expressing  himself  when  the  measures  of  his  minis- 
ters were  unsuccessful.  The  King  delighted  to  man- 
age the  most  disgraceful  points  of  his  private  expenses 
himself;  he  one  day  sold  to  a  head  clerk  in  the  War 
Department  a  house  in  which  one  of  his  mistresses 
had  lodged ;  the  contract  ran  in  the  name  of  Louis  de 
Bourbon,  and  the  purchaser  himself  took  in  a  bag 
the  price  of  the  house  in  gold  to  the  King  in  his 
private  closet. 

Louis  XV.  saw  very  little  of  his  family.  He  came 
every  morning  by  a  private  staircase  into  the  apart- 
ment of  Madame  Adelaide.  He  often  brought  and 
drank  there  coffee  that  he  had  made  himself.  Madame 
Adelaide  pulled  a  bell  which  apprised  Madame  Vic- 
toire  of  the  King's  visit;  Madame  Victoire,  on  rising 
to  go  to  her  sister's  apartment,  rang  for  Madame  So- 
phie, who  in  her  turn  rang  for  Madame  Louise.  The 
apartments  of  Mesdames  were  of  very  large  dimen- 
sions. Madame  Louise  occupied  the  farthest  room. 
This  latter  lady  was  deformed  and  very  short;  the 
poor  Princess  used  to  run  with  all  her  might  to  join 
the  daily  meeting,  but,  having  a  number  of  rooms  to 
cross,  she  frequently,  in  spite  of  her  haste,  had  only 
just  time  to  embrace  her  father  before  he  set  out  for 
the  chase. 

Every  evening,  at  six,  Mesdames  interrupted  my 
reading  to  them  to  accompany  the  Princes  to  Louis 
XV.;  this  visit  was  called  the  King's  debotter,  and 
was  marked  by  a  kind  of  etiquette.     Mesdames  put  on 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  19 

an  enormous  hoop,  which  set  out  a  petticoat  orna- 
mented with  gold  or  embroidery;  they  fastened  a  long 
train  round  their  waists,  and  concealed  the  undress  of 
the  rest  of  their  clothing  by  a  long  cloak  of  black  taf- 
fety  which  enveloped  them  up  to  the  chin.  The  che- 
valiers dlionneur,  the  ladies  in  waiting,  the  pages,  the 
equerries,  and  the  ushers  bearing  large  flambeaux,  ac- 
companied them  to  the  King.  In  a  moment  the  whole 
palace,  generally  so  still,  was  in  motion;  the  King 
kissed  each  Princess  on  the  forehead,  and  the  visit  was 
so  short  that  the  reading  which  it  interrupted  was  fre- 
quently resumed  at  the  end  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour; 
Mesdames  returned  to  their  apartments,  and  untied 
the  strings  of  their  petticoats  and  trains;  they  resumed 
their  tapestry,  and  I  my  book. 

During  the  summer  season  the  King  sometimes 
came  to  the  residence  of  Mesdames  before  the  hour 
of  his  debotter.  One  day  he  found  me  alone  in  Ma- 
dame Victoire's  closet,  and  asked  me  where  Coche 
was;  I  started,  and  he  repeated  his  question,  but 
without  being  at  all  the  more  understood.  When 
the  King  was  gone  I  asked  Madame  of  whom  he 
spoke.  She  told  me  that  it  was  herself,  and  very 
coolly  explained  to  me,  that,  being  the  fattest  of  his 
daughters,  the  King  had  given  her  the  familiar  name 
of  Coche;  that  he  called  Madame  Adelaide,  Loque, 
Madame  Sophie,  Graillc,  and  Madame  Louise,  Chide. 
The  people  of  the  King's  household  observed  that  he 
knew  a  great  number  of  such  words;  possibly  he  had 
amused  himself  with  picking  them  out  from  dictiona- 
ries. If  this  style  of  speaking  betrayed  the  habits  and 
tastes  of  the  King,  his  manner  savoured  nothing  of 
such  vulgarity;  his  walk  was  easy  and  noble,  he  had 
a  dignified  carriage  of  the  head,  and  his  aspect,  with- 
out being  severe,  was  imposing;  he  combined  great 
politeness  with  a  truly  regal  demeanour,  and  grace- 


2o  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

fully  saluted  the  humblest  woman  whom  curiosity  led 
into  his  path. 

He  was  very  expert  in  a  number  of  trifling  matters 
which  never  occupy  attention  but  when  there  is  a 
lack  of  something  better  to  employ  it;  for  instance, 
he  would  knock  off  the  top  of  an  egg-shell  at  a  single 
stroke  of  his  fork;  he  therefore  always  ate  eggs  when 
lie  dined  in  public,  and  the  Parisians  who  came  on 
Sundays  to  see  the  King  dine,  returned  home  less 
struck  with  his  fine  figure  than  with  the  dexterity  with 
which  he  broke  his  eggs. 

Repartees  of  Louis  XV.,  which  marked  the  keen- 
ness of  his  wit  and  the  elevation  of  his  sentiments, 
were  quoted  with  pleasure  in  the  assemblies  of 
Versailles. 

This  Prince  was  still  beloved;  it  was  wished  that 
a  style  of  life  suitable  to  his  age  and  dignity  should 
at  length  supersede  the  errors  of  the  past,  and  justify 
the  love  of  his  subjects.  It  was  painful  to  judge  him 
harshly.  If  he  had  established  avowed  mistresses  at 
Court,'  the  uniform  devotion  of  the  Queen  was  blamed 
for  it.  Mesdames  were  reproached  for  not  seeking  to 
prevent  the  King's  forming  an  intimacy  with  some 
new  favourite.  Madame  Henriette,  twin  sister  of  the 
Duchess  of  Parma,  was  much  regretted,  for  she  had 
considerable  influence  over  the  King's  mind,  and  it 
was  remarked  that  if  she  had  lived  she  would  have 
been  assiduous  in  finding  him  amusements  in  the 
bosom  of  his  family,  would  have  followed  him  in  his 
short  excursions,  and  would  have  done  the  honours 
of  the  petits  soupers  which  he  was  so  fond  of  giving 
in  his  private  apartments. 

Mesdames  too  much  neglected  the  means  of  pleas- 
ing the  King,  but  the  cause  of  that  was  obvious  in 
the  little  attention  he  had  paid  them  in  their  youth. 
In  order  to  console  the  people  under  their  suffer- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  21 

ings,  and  to  shut  their  eyes  to  the  real  depredations 
on  the  treasury,  the  ministers  occasionally  pressed 
the  most  extravagant  measures  of  reform  in  the  King's 
household,  and  even  in  his  personal  expenses. 

Cardinal  Fleury,  who  in  truth  had  the  merit  of 
reestablishing  the  finances,  carried  this  system  of 
economy  so  far  as  to  obtain  from  the  King  the 
suppression  of  the  household  of  the  four  younger 
Princesses.  They  were  brought  up  as  mere  boarders 
in  a  convent  eighty  leagues  distant  from  the  Court. 
Saint  Cyr  would  have  been  more  suitable  for  the 
reception  of  the  King's  daughters;  but  probably  the 
Cardinal  shared  some  of  those  prejudices  which  will 
always  attach  to  even  the  most  useful  institutions, 
and  which,  since  the  death  of  Louis  XIV.,  had  been 
raised  against  the  noble  establishment  of  Madame  de 
Maintenon.  Madame  Louise  often  assured  me  that 
at  twelve  years  of  age  she  was  not  mistress  of  the 
whole  alphabet,  and  never  learnt  to  read  fluently 
until  after  her  return  to  Versailles. 

Madame  Victoire  attributed  certain  paroxysms  of 
terror,  which  she  was  never  able  to  conquer,  to  the 
violent  alarms  she  experienced  at  the  Abbey  of 
Fontevrault,  whenever  she  was  sent,  by  way  of  pen- 
ance, to  pray  alone  in  the  vault  where  the  sisters 
were  interred. 

A  gardener  belonging  to  the  abbey  died  raving 
mad.  His  habitation,  without  the  walls,  was  near 
a  chapel  of  the  abbey,  where  Mesdames  were  taken 
to  repeat  the  prayers  for  those  in  the  agonies  of 
death.  Their  prayers  were  more  than  once  inter- 
rupted by  the  shrieks  of  the  dying  man. 

When  Mesdames,  still  very  young,  returned  to 
Court,  they  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Monseigneur 
the  Dauphin,  and  profited  by  his  advice.  They 
devoted  themselves  ardently  to   study,   and  gave  up 


22  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

almost  the  whole  of  their  time  to  it;  they  enabled 
themselves  to  write  French  correctly,  and  acquired 
a  good  knowledge  of  history.  Italian,  English,  the 
higher  branches  of  mathematics,  turning  and  dial- 
ling, filled  up  in  succession  their  leisure  moments. 
Madame  Adelaide,  in  particular,  had  a  most  insatiable 
desire  to  learn;  she  was  taught  to  play  upon  all 
instruments,  from  the  horn  (will  it  be  believed!)  to 
the  Jew's-harp. 

Madame  Adelaide  was  graced  for  a  short  time  with 
a  charming  figure;  but  never  did  beauty  so  quickly 
vanish.  Madame  Victoire  was  handsome  and  very 
graceful;  her  address,  mien,  and  smile  were  in  per- 
fect accordance  with  the  goodness  of  her  heart. 
Madame  Sophie  was  remarkably  ugly;  never  did  I 
behold  a  person  with  so  unprepossessing  an  appear- 
ance; she  walked  with  the  greatest  rapidity;  and, 
in  order  to  recognise  the  people  who  placed  them- 
selves along  her  path  without  looking  at  them,  she 
acquired  the  habit  of  leering  on  one  side,  like  a  hare. 
This  Princess  was  so  exceedingly  diffident  that  a 
person  might  be  with  her  daily  for  years  together 
without  hearing  her  utter  a  single  word.  It  was 
asserted,  however,  that  she  displayed  talent,  and 
even  amiability,  in  the  society  of  some  favourite 
ladies.  She  taught  herself  a  great  deal,  but  she 
studied  alone;  the  presence  of  a  reader  would  have 
disconcerted  her  very  much.  There  were,  however, 
occasions  on  which  the  Princess,  generally  so  intrac- 
table, became  all  at  once  affable  and  condescending, 
and  manifested  the  most  communicative  good-nature; 
this  would  happen  during  a  storm;  so  great  was  her 
alarm  on  such  an  occasion  that  she  then  approached 
the  most  humble,  and  would  ask  them  a  thousand 
obliging-  questions;  a  flash  of  lightning  made  her 
squeeze  their  hands;  a  peal  of  thunder  would  drive 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  23 

her  to  embrace  them,  but  with  the  return  of  the 
calm,  the  Princess  resumed  her  stiffness,  her  reserve, 
and  her  repellent  air,  and  passed  all  by  without 
taking  the  slightest  notice  of  any  one,  until  a  fresh 
storm  restored  to  her  at  once  her  dread  and  her 
affability. 

Mesdames  found  in  a  beloved  brother,  whose  rare 
attainments  are  known  to  all  Frenchmen,  a  guide 
in  everything  wanting  to  their  education.  In  their 
august  mother,  Maria  Leczinska,  they  possessed  the 
noblest  example  of  every  pious  and  social  virtue;  that 
Princess,  by  her  eminent  qualities  and  her  modest 
dignity,  veiled  the  failings  of  the  King,  and  while  she 
lived  she  preserved  in  the  Court  of  Louis  XV.  that 
decorous  and  dignified  tone  which  alone  secures  the 
respect  due  to  power.  The  Princesses,  her  daughters, 
were  worthy  of  her;  and  if  a  few  degraded  beings 
did  aim  the  shafts  of  calumny  at  them,  these  shafts 
dropped  harmless,  warded  off  by  the  elevation  of  their 
sentiments  and  the  purity  of  their  conduct. 

If  Mesdames  had  not  tasked  themselves  with  nu- 
merous occupations,  they  would  have  been  much  to  be 
pitied.  They  loved  walking,  but  could  enjoy  nothing 
beyond  the  public  gardens  of  Versailles;  they  would 
have  cultivated  flowers,  but  could  have  no  others  than 
those  in  their  windows. 

The  Marquise  de  Durfort,  since  Duchesse  de  Civrac, 
afforded  to  Madame  Victoire  agreeable  society.  The 
Princess  spent  almost  all  her  evenings  with  that  lady, 
and  ended  by  fancying  herself  domiciled  with  her. 

Madame  de  Narbonne  had,  in  a  similar  way,  taken 
pains  to  make  her  intimate  acquaintance  pleasant  to 
Madame  Adelaide. 

Madame  Louise  had  for  many  years  lived  in  great 
seclusion;  I  read  to  her  five  hours  a  day.  My  voice 
frequently  betrayed  the  exhaustion  of  my  lungs;  the 


24  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

Princess  would  then  prepare  sugared  water  for  me, 
place  it  by  me,  and  apologise  for  making  me  read  so 
long,  on  the  score  of  having  prescribed  a  course  of 
reading  for  herself. 

One  evening,  while  I  was  reading,  she  was  informed 
that  M.  Bertin,  ministre  des  parties  casuelles,  desired 
to  speak  with  her;  she  went  out  abruptly,  returned, 
resumed  her  silks  and  embroidery,  and  made  me  re- 
sume my  book;  when  I  retired  she  commanded  me 
to  be  in  her  closet  the  next  morning  at  eleven  o'clock. 
When  I  got  there  the  Princess  was  gone  out;  I  learnt 
that  she  had  gone  at  seven  in  the  morning  to  the 
Convent  of  the  Carmelites  of  St.  Denis,  where  she 
was  desirous  of  taking  the  veil.  I  went  to  Madame 
Victoire;  there  I  heard  that  the  King  alone  had 
been  acquainted  with  Madame  Louise's  project;  that 
he  had  kept  it  faithfully  secret,  and  that,  having 
long  previously  opposed  her  wish,  he  had  only  on 
the  preceding  evening  sent  her  his  consent;  that  she 
had  gone  alone  into  the  convent,  where  she  was 
expected;  and  that  a  few  minutes  afterwards  she  had 
made  her  appearance  at  the  grating,  to  show  to  the 
Princesse  de  Guistel,  who  had  accompanied  her  to 
the  convent  gate,  and  to  her  equerry,  the  King's  order 
to  leave  her  in  the  monastery. 

Upon  receiving  the  intelligence  of  her  sister's  de- 
parture, Madame  Adelaide  gave  way  to  violent  parox- 
ysms of  rage,  and  reproached  the  King  bitterly  for  the 
secret,  which  he  had  thought  it  his  duty  to  preserve. 
Madame  Victoire  missed  the  society  of  her  favourite 
sister,  but  she  shed  tears  in  silence  only.  The  first 
time  I  saw  this  excellent  Princess  after  Madame 
Louise's  departure,  I  threw  myself  at  her  feet,  kissed 
her  hand,  and  asked  her,  with  all  the  confidence  of 
youth,  whether  she  would  quit  us  as  Madame  Louise 
had  done.     She  raised  me,   embraced  me,  and  said, 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  25 

pointing  to  the  lounge  upon  which  she  was  extended, 
"  Make  yourself  easy,  my  dear;  I  shall  never  have 
Louise's  courage.  I  love  the  conveniences  of  life  too 
well;  this  lounge  is  my  destruction."  As  soon  as  I 
obtained  permission  to  do  so,  I  went  to  St.  Denis  to 
see  my  late  mistress;  she  deigned  to  receive  me  with 
her  face  uncovered,  in  her  private  parlour;  she  told 
me  she  had  just  left  the  wash-house,  and  that  it  was 
her  turn  that  day  to  attend  to  the  linen.  "  I  much 
abused  your  youthful  lungs  for  two  years  before  the 
execution  of  my  project,"  added  she.  "  I  knew  that 
here  I  could  read  none  but  books  tending  to  our  sal- 
vation, and  I  wished  to  review  all  the  historians  that 
had  interested  me." 

She  informed  me  that  the  King's  consent  for  her 
to  go  to  St.  Denis  had  been  brought  to  her  while  I 
was  reading;  she  prided  herself,  and  with  reason, 
upon  having  returned  to  her  closet  without  the  slight- 
est mark  of  agitation,  though  she  said  she  felt  so 
keenly  that  she  could  scarcely  regain  her  chair.  She 
added  that  moralists  were  right  when  they  said  that 
happiness  does  not  dwell  in  palaces;  that  she  had 
proved  it;  and  that,  if  I  desired  to  be  happy,  she  ad- 
vised me  to  come  and  enjoy  a  retreat  in  which  the 
liveliest  imagination  might  find  full  exercise  in  the 
contemplation  of  a  better  world.  I  had  no  palace,  no 
earthly  grandeur  to  sacrifice  to  God;  nothing  but  the 
bosom  of  a  united  family;  and  it  is  precisely  there 
that  the  moralists  whom  she  cited  have  placed  true 
happiness.  I  replied  that,  in  private  life,  the  absence 
of  a  beloved  and  cherished  daughter  would  be  too 
cruelly  felt  by  her  family.  The  Princess  said  no 
more  on  the  subject. 

The  seclusion  of  Madame  Louise  was  attributed  to 
various  motives;  some  were  unkind  enough  to  suppose 
it  to  have  been  occasioned   by  her  mortification  at 


26  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

being,  in  point  of  rank,  the  last  of  the  Princesses.  I 
think  I  penetrated  the  true  cause.  Her  aspirations 
were  lofty;  she  loved  everything  sublime;  often  while 
I  was  reading  she  would  interrupt  me  to  exclaim, 
"That  is  beautiful;  that  is  noble!"  There  was  but 
one  brilliant  action  that  she  could  perform, — to  quit 
a  palace  for  a  cell,  and  rich  garments  for  a  stuff 
gown.     She  achieved  it ! 

I  saw  Madame  Louise  two  or  three  times  more  at 
the  grating.  I  was  informed  of  her  death  by  Louis 
XVI.  "  My  Aunt  Louise,"  said  he  to  me,  "  your  old 
mistress,  is  just  dead  at  St.  Denis.  I  have  this  mo- 
ment received  intelligence  of  it.  Her  piety  and  resig- 
nation were  admirable,  and  yet  the  delirium  of  my 
good  aunt  recalled  to  her  recollection  that  she  was  a 
princess,  for  her  last  words  were,  '  To  paradise,  haste, 
haste,  full  speed.'  No  doubt  she  thought  she  was 
again  giving  orders  to  her  equerry." 

Madame  Victoire,  good,  sweet-tempered,  and  affa- 
ble, lived  with  the  most  amiable  simplicity  in  a  society 
wherein  she  was  much  caressed;  she  was  adored  by 
her  household.  Without  quitting  Versailles,  without 
sacrificing  her  easy  chair,  she  fulfilled  the  duties  of 
religion  with  punctuality,  gave  to  the  poor  all  she  pos- 
sessed, and  strictly  observed  Lent  and  the  fasts.  The 
table  of  Mesdames  acquired  a  reputation  for  dishes  of 
abstinence,  spread  abroad  by  the  assiduous  parasites 
at  that  of  their  maitre  d'hotel.  Madame  Victoire  was 
not  indifferent  to  good  living,  but  she  had  the  most 
religious  scruples  respecting  dishes  of  which  it  was 
allowable  to  partake  at  penitential  times.  I  saw  her 
one  day  exceedingly  tormented  by  her  doubts  about  a 
water-fowl,  which  was  often  served  up  to  her  during 
Lent.  The  question  to  be  determined  was,  whether  it 
was  maigre  or  gras.  She  consulted  a  bishop,  who 
happened  to  be  of  the  party:  the  prelate  immediately 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  ^ 

assumed  the  grave  attitude  of  a  judge  who  is  about  to 
pronounce  sentence.  He  answered  the  Princess  that, 
in  a  similar  case  of  doubt,  it  had  been  resolved  that 
after  dressing  the  bird  it  should  be  pricked  over  a  very 
cold  silver  dish;  if  the  gravy  of  the  animal  congealed 
within  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  the  creature  was  to  be 
accounted  flesh;  but  if  the  gravy  remained  in  an  oily 
state,  it  might  be  eaten  without  scruple.  Madame 
Victoire  immediately  made  the  experiment :  the  gravy 
did  not  congeal;  and  this  was  a  source  of  great  joy  to 
the  Princess,  who  was  very  partial  to  that  sort  of 
game.  The  abstinence  which  so  much  occupied  the 
attention  of  Madame  Victoire  was  so  disagreeable  to 
her,  that  she  listened  with  impatience  for  the  midnight 
hour  of  Holy  Saturday;  and  then  she  was  immedi- 
ately supplied  with  a  good  dish  of  fowl  and  rice,  and 
sundry  other  succulent  viands.  She  confessed  with 
such  amiable  candour  her  taste  for  good  cheer  and  the 
comforts  of  life,  that  it  would  have  been  necessary  to 
be  as  severe  in  principle  as  insensible  to  the  ex- 
cellent qualities  of  the  Princess,  to  consider  it  a  crime 
in  her. 

Madame  Adelaide  had  more  mind  than  Madame 
Victoire;  but  she  was  altogether  deficient  in  that 
kindness  which  alone  creates  affection  for  the  great, — 
abrupt  manners,  a  harsh  voice,  and  a  short  way  of 
speaking,  rendering  her  more  than  imposing.  She 
carried  the  idea  of  the  prerogative  of  rank  to  a  high 
pitch.  One  of  her  chaplains  was  unlucky  enough  to 
say  Dominns  vobiscum  with  rather  too  easy  an  air;  the 
Princess  rated  him  soundly  for  it  after  mass,  and  told 
him  to  remember  that  he  was  not  a  bishop,  and  not 
again  to  think  of  officiating  in  the  style  of  a  prelate. 

Mesdames  lived  quite  separate  from  the  King. 
Since  the  death  of  Madame  de  Pompadour  he  had 
lived  alone.     The  enemies  of  the  Due  de  Choiseul  did 


28  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

not  know  in  what  department,  nor  through  what  chan- 
nel, they  could  prepare  and  bring  about  the  downfall 
of  the  man  who  stood  in  their  way.  The  King  was 
connected  only  with  women  of  so  low  a  class  that  they 
could  not  be  made  use  of  for  any  delicate  intrigue; 
moreover,  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs  was  a  seraglio,  the  beau- 
ties of  which  were  often  replaced;  it  was  desirable  to 
give  the  King  a  mistress  who  could  form  a  circle,  and 
in  whose  drawing-room  the  long-standing  attachment 
of  the  King  for  the  Due  de  Choiseul  might  be  over- 
come. It  is  true  that  Madame  du  Barry  was  selected 
from  a  class  sufficiently  low.  Her  origin,  her  educa- 
tion, her  habits,  and  everything  about  her  bore  a  char- 
acter of  vulgarity  and  shamelessness;  but  by  marrying 
her  to  a  man  whose  pedigree  dated  from  1400,  it  was 
thought  scandal  would  be  avoided.  The  conqueror  of 
Mahon  conducted  this  coarse  intrigue.  Such  a  mis- 
tress was  judiciously  selected  for  the  diversion  of  the 
latter  years  of  a  man  weary  of  grandeur,  fatigued  with 
pleasure,  and  cloyed  with  voluptuousness.  Neither 
the  wit,  the  talents,  the  graces  of  the  Marquise  de 
Pompadour,  her  beauty,  nor  even  her  love  for  the 
King,  would  have  had  any  further  influence  over  that 
worn-out  being. 

Pie  wanted  a  Roxalana  of  familiar  gaiety,  without 
any  respect  for  the  dignity  of  the  sovereign.  Madame 
du  Barry  one  day  so  far  forgot  propriety  as  to  desire 
to  be  present  at  a  Council  of  State.  The  King  was 
weak  enough  to  consent  to  it.  There  she  remained 
ridiculously  perched  upon  the  arm  of  his  chair,  play- 
ing all  sorts  of  childish  monkey  tricks,  calculated  to 
please  an  old  sultan. 

Another  time  she  snatched  a  packet  of  sealed  let- 
ters from  the  King's  hand.  Among  them  she  had 
observed  one  from  Comte  de  Broglie.  She  told  the 
King  that  she  knew  that  rascal  Broglie  spoke  ill  of 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  29 

her  to  him,  and  that  for  once,  at  least,  she  would 
make  sure  he  should  read  nothing  respecting-  her. 
The  King  wanted  to  get  the  packet  again;  she  re- 
sisted, and  made  him  run  two  or  three  times  round 
the  table,  which  was  in  the  middle  of  the  council- 
chamber,  and  then,  on  passing  the  fireplace,  she  threw 
the  letters  into  the  grate,  where  they  were  consumed. 
The  King  became  furious;  he  seized  his  audacious 
mistress  by  the  arm,  and  put  her  out  of  the  door 
without  speaking  to  her.  Madame  du  Barry  thought 
herself  utterly  disgraced;  she  returned  home,  and 
remained  two  hours,  alone,  abandoned  to  the  utmost 
distress.  The  King  went  to  her;  she  threw  herself 
at  his  feet,  in  tears,  and  he  pardoned  her. 

Madame  la  Marechale  de  Beauvau,  the  Duchesse 
de  Choiseul,  and  the  Duchesse  de  Grammont  had  re- 
nounced the  honour  of  the  King's  intimate  acquaint- 
ance rather  than  share  it  with  Madame  du  Barry. 
But  a  few  years  after  the  death  of  Louis  XV.,  Ma- 
dame la  Marechale  being  alone  at  the  Val,  a  house 
belonging  to  M.  de  Beauvau,  Mademoiselle  de  Dillon 
saw  the  Countess's  calash  take  shelter  in  the  forest 
of  St.  Germain  during  a  violent  storm.  She  invited 
her  in,  and  the  Countess  herself  related  these  par- 
ticulars, which  I  had  from  Madame  de  Beauvau. 

The  Comte  du  Barry,  surnamed  le  roue  (the  prof- 
ligate), and  Mademoiselle  du  Barry  advised,  or  rather 
prompted,  Madame  du  Barry  in  furtherance  of  the 
plans  of  the  party  of  the  Marechal  de  Richelieu  and 
the  Due  d'Aiguillon.  Sometimes  they,  even  set  her 
to  act  in  such  a  way  as  to  have  a  useful  influence 
upon  great  political  measures.  Under  pretence  that 
the  page  who  accompanied  Charles  I.  in  his  flight 
was  a  Du  Barry  or  Barrymore,  they  persuaded  the 
Comtesse  du  Barry  to  buy  in  London  that  fine  por- 
trait which  we  now  have  in  the  Museum.     She  had 


30  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

the  picture  placed  in  her  drawing-room,  and  when 
she  saw  the  King  hesitating  upon  the  violent  measure 
of  breaking  up  his  Parliament,  and  forming  that 
which  was  called  the  Maupeou  Parliament,  she  de- 
sired him  to  look  at  the  portrait  of  a  king  who  had 
given  way  to  his  Parliament. 

The  men  of  ambition  who  were  labouring  to  over- 
throw the  Due  de  Choiseul  strengthened  themselves 
by  their  concentration  at  the  house  of  the  favourite, 
and  succeeded  in  their  project.  The  bigots,  who 
never  forgave  that  minister  the  suppression  of  the 
Jesuits,  and  who  had  always  been  hostile  to  a  treaty 
of  alliance  with  Austria,  influenced  the  minds  of 
Mesdames.  The  Due  de  La  Vauguyon,  the  young 
Dauphin's  governor,  infected  them  with  the  same 
prejudices. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  public  mind  when  the 
young  Archduchess  Marie  Antoinette  arrived  at 
the  Court  of  Versailles,  just  at  the  moment  when 
the  party  which  brought  her  there  was  about  to  be 
overthrown. 

Madame  Adelaide  openly  avowed  her  dislike  to  a 
princess  of  the  House  of  Austria;  and  when  M.  Cam- 
pan,  my  father-in-law,  went  to  receive  his  orders,  at 
the  moment  of  setting  off  with  the  household  of  the 
Dauphiness,  to  go  and  receive  the  Archduchess  upon 
the  frontiers,  she  said  she  disapproved  of  the  mar- 
riage of  her  nephew  with  an  archduchess;  and  that, 
if  she  had  the  direction  of  the  matter,  she  would  not 
send  for  an  Austrian. 


CHAPTER  II 

MARIE  ANTOINETTE  JOSEPHE  JEANNE 
DE  LORRAINE,  Archduchess  of  Austria, 
daughter  of  Francois  de  Lorraine  and  of 
Maria  Theresa,  was  born  on  the  2d  of  November,  1755, 
the  day  of  the  earthquake  at  Lisbon;  and  this  catas- 
trophe, which  appeared  to  stamp  the  era  of  her  birth 
with  a  fatal  mark,  without  forming  a  motive  for  su- 
perstitious fear  with  the  Princess,  nevertheless  made 
an  impression  upon  her  mind.  As  the  Empress  al- 
ready had  a  great  number  of  daughters,  she  ardently 
desired  to  have  another  son,  and  playfully  wagered 
against  her  wish  with  the  Due  de  Tarouka,  who  had 
insisted  that  she  would  give  birth  to  an  archduke.  He 
lost  by  the  birth  of  the  Princess,  and  had  executed  in 
porcelain  a  figure  with  one  knee  bent  on  the  earth,  and 
presenting  tablets,  upon  which  the  following  lines  by 
Metastasio  were  engraved: 

/  lose  by  your  fair  daughter's  birth 

Who  prophesied  a  son ; 
But  if  she  share  her  mother's  worth, 

Why,  all  the  world  has  won ! 

The  Queen  was  fond  of  talking  of  the  first  years 
of  her  youth.  Her  father,  the  Emperor  Francis,  had 
made  a  deep  impression  upon  her  heart;  she  lost  him 
when  she  was  scarcely  seven  years  old.  One  of  those 
circumstances  which  fix  themselves  strongly  in  the 
memories  of  children  frequently  recalled  his  last 
caresses  to  her.     The  Emperor  was  setting  out   for 

31 


32  the  memoirs  of 

Innspruck;  he  had  already  left  his  palace,  when  he 
ordered  a  gentleman  to  fetch  the  Archduchess  Marie 
Antoinette,  and  bring  her  to  his  carriage.  When  she 
came,  he  stretched  out  his  arms  to  receive  her,  and 
said,  after  having  pressed  her  to  his  bosom,  "  I  wanted 
to  embrace  this  child  once  more."  The  Emperor 
died  suddenly  during  the  journey,  and  never  saw  his 
beloved  daughter  again. 

The  Queen  often  spoke  of  her  mother,  and  with 
profound  respect,  but  she  based  all  her  schemes  for 
the  education  of  her  children  on  the  essentials  which 
had  been  neglected  in  her  own.  Maria  Theresa,  who 
inspired  awe  by  her  great  qualities,  taught  the  Arch- 
duchesses to  fear  and  respect  rather  than  to  love 
her;  at  least  I  observed  this  in  the  Queen's  feelings 
towards  her  august  mother.  She  therefore  never 
desired  to  place  between  her  own  children  and  her- 
self that  distance  which  had  existed  in  the  imperial 
family.  She  cited  a  fatal  consequence  of  it,  which 
had  made  such  a  powerful  impression  upon  her  that 
time  had  never  been  able  to  efface  it. 

The  wife  of  the  Emperor  Joseph  II.  was  taken 
from  him  in  a  few  days  by  an  attack  of  smallpox  of 
the  most  virulent  kind.  Her  coffin  had  recently  been 
deposited  in  the  vault  of  the  imperial  family.  The 
Archduchess  Josepha,  who  had  been  betrothed  to  the 
King  of  Naples,  at  the  instant  she  was  quitting 
Vienna  received  an  order  from  the  Empress  not  to 
set  oft*  without  having  offered  up  a  prayer  in  the 
vault  of  her  forefathers.  The  Archduchess,  per- 
suaded that  she  should  take  the  disorder  to  which 
her  sister-in-law  had  just  fallen  a  victim,  looked  upon 
this  order  as  her  death-warrant.  She  loved  the  young 
Archduchess  Marie  Antoinette  tenderly;  she  took  her 
upon  her  knees,  embraced  her  with  tears,  and  told 
her  she  was  about  to  leave  her,  not  for  Naples,  but 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  33 

never  to  see  her  again ;  that  she  was  going  down  then 
to  the  tomb  of  her  ancestors,  and  that  she  should 
shortly  go  again  there  to  remain.  Her  anticipation 
was  realised;  confluent  smallpox  carried  her  off  in  a 
very  few  days,  and  her  youngest  sister  ascended  the 
throne  of  Naples  in  her  place. 

The  Empress  was  too  much  taken  up  with  high 
political  interests  to  have  it  in  her  power  to  devote 
herself  to  maternal  attentions.  The  celebrated  Wans- 
vietten,  her  physician,  went  daily  to  visit  the  young 
imperial  family,  and  afterwards  to  Maria  Theresa, 
and  gave  the  most  minute  details  respecting  the  health 
of  the  Archdukes  and  Archduchesses,  whom  she  her- 
self sometimes  did  not  see  for  eight  or  ten  days  at 
a  time.  As  soon  as  the  arrival  of  a  stranger  of  rank 
at  Vienna  was  made  known,  the  Empress  brought  her 
family  about  her,  admitted  them  to  her  table,  and  by 
this  concerted  meeting  induced  a  belief  that  she  her- 
self presided  over  the  education  of  her  children. 

The  chief  governesses,  being  under  no  fear  of  in- 
spection from  Maria  Theresa,  aimed  at  making  them- 
selved  beloved  by  their  pupils  by  the  common  and 
blamable  practice  of  indulgence,  so  fatal  to  the  future 
progress  and  happiness  of  children.  Marie  Antoinette 
was  the  cause  of  her  governess  being  dismissed, 
through  a  confession  that  all  her  copies  and  all  her 
letters  were  invariably  first  traced  out  with  pencil; 
the  Comtesse  de  Brandes  was  appointed  to  succeed 
her,  and  fulfilled  her  duties  with  great  exactness  and 
talent.  The  Queen  looked  upon  having  been  con- 
fided to  her  care  so  late  as  a  misfortune,  and  always 
continued  upon  terms  of  friendship  with  that  lady. 
The  education  of  Marie  Antoinette  was  certainly  very 
much  neglected.  With  the  exception  of  the  Italian 
language,  all  that  related  to  belles  lettres,  and  particu- 
larly to  history,  even  that  of  her  own  country,  was 


34  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

almost  entirely  unknown  to  her.  This  was  soon 
found  out  at  the  Court  of  France,  and  thence  arose 
the  generally  received  opinion  that  she  was  deficient 
in  sense.  It  will  be  seen  in  the  course  of  these  "  Mem- 
oirs "  whether  that  opinion  was  well  or  ill  founded. 
The  public  prints,  however,  teemed  with  assertions  of 
the  superior  talents  of  Maria  Theresa's  children. 
They  often  noticed  the  answers  which  the  young 
Princesses  gave  in  Latin  to  the  harangues  addressed 
to  them;  they  uttered  them,  it  is  true,  but  without 
understanding  them;  they  knew  not  a  single  word  of 
that  language. 

Mention  was  one  day  made  to  the  Queen  of  a 
drawing  made  by  her,  and  presented  by  the  Empress 
to  M.  Gerard,  chief  clerk  of  Foreign  Affairs,  on  the 
occasion  of  his  going  to  Vienna  to  draw  up  the  ar- 
ticles for  her  marriage-contract.  "  I  should  blush," 
said  she,  "  if  that  proof  of  the  quackery  of  my  educa- 
tion were  shown  to  me.  I  do  not  believe  that  I  ever 
put  a  pencil  to  that  drawing."  However,  what  had 
been  taught  her  she  knew  perfectly  well.  Her  facility 
of  learning  was  inconceivable,  and  if  all  her  teachers 
had  been  as  well  informed  and  as  faithful  to  their 
duty  as  the  Abbe  Metastasio,  who  taught  her  Italian, 
she  would  have  attained  as  great  a  superiority  in  the 
other  branches  of  her  education.  The  Queen  spoke 
that  language  with  grace  and  ease,  and  translated  the 
most  difficult  poets.  She  did  not  write  French  cor- 
rectly, but  she  spoke  it  with  the  greatest  fluency,  and 
even  affected  to  say  that  she  had  lost  German.  In 
fact  she  attempted  in  1787  to  learn  her  mother- 
tongue,  and  took  lessons  assiduously  for  six  weeks; 
she  was  obliged  to  relinquish  them,  finding  all  the 
difficulties  which  a  Frenchwoman,  who  should  take 
up  the  study  too  late,  would  have  to  encounter.  In 
the  same  manner  she  gave  up  English,  which  I  had 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  35 

taught  her  for  some  time,  and  in  which  she  had  made 
rapid  progress.  Music  was  the  accomplishment  in 
which  the  Queen  most  delighted.  She  did  not  play 
well  on  any  instrument,  but  she  had  become  able  to 
read  at  sight  like  a  first-rate  professor.  She  attained 
this  degree  of  perfection  in  France,  this  branch  of 
her  education  having  been  neglected  at  Vienna  as 
much  as  the  rest.  A  few  days  after  her  arrival  at 
Versailles,  she  was  introduced  to  her  singing-master, 
La  Garde,  author  of  the  opera  of  "  Egle."  She  made 
a  distant  appointment  with  him,  needing,  as  she  said, 
rest  after  the  fatigues  of  the  journey  and  the  numer- 
ous fetes  which  had  taken  place  at  Versailles;  but 
her  motive  was  her  desire  to  conceal  how  ignorant 
she  was  of  the  rudiments  of  music.  She  asked  M. 
Campan  whether  his  son,  who  was  a  good  musician, 
could  give  her  lessons  secretly  for  three  months. 
"  The  Dauphiness,"  added  she,  smiling,  "  must  be 
careful  of  the  reputation  of  the  Archduchess."  The 
lessons  were  given  privately,  and  at  the  end  of  three 
months  of  constant  application  she  sent  for  M.  la 
Garde,  and  surprised  him  by  her  skill. 

The  desire  to  perfect  Marie  Antoinette  in  the  study 
of  the  French  language  was  probably  the  motive  which 
determined  Maria  Theresa  to  provide  for  her  as  teach- 
ers two  French  actors :  Auf resne,  for  pronunciation 
and  declamation,  and  Sainville,  for  taste  in  French 
singing;  the  latter  had  been  an  officer  in  France,  and 
bore  a  bad  character.  The  choice  gave  just  umbrage 
to  our  Court.  The  Marquis  de  Durfort,  at  that  time 
ambassador  at  Vienna,  was  ordered  to  make  a  repre- 
sentation to  the  Empress  upon  her  selection.  The 
two  actors  were  dismissed,  and  the  Princess  required 
that  an  ecclesiastic  should  be  sent  to  her.  Several 
eminent  ecclesiastics  declined  taking  upon  themselves 
so  delicate  an  office;  others  who  were  pointed  out  by 

Vol.  3  Memoirs — 2 


36  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

Maria   Theresa    (among  the   rest   the   Abbe   Grisel) 
belonged  to  parties  which  sufficed  to  exclude  them. 

The  Archbishop  of  Toulouse  one  day  went  to  the 
Due  de  Choiseul  at  the  moment  when  he  was  much 
embarrassed  upon  the  subject  of  this  nomination;  he 
proposed  to  him  the  Abbe  de  Vermond,  librarian  of 
the  College  des  Quatre  Nations.  The  eulogistic  man- 
ner in  which  he  spoke  of  his  protege  procured  the 
appointment  for  the  latter  on  that  very  day;  and  the 
gratitude  of  the  Abbe  de  Vermond  towards  the  prel- 
ate was  very  fatal  to  France,  inasmuch  as  after  seven- 
teen years  of  persevering  attempts  to  bring  him  into 
the  ministry,  he  succeeded  at  last  in  getting  him 
named  Comptroller-General  and  President  of  the 
Council. 

This  Abbe  de  Vermond  directed  almost  all  the 
Queen's  actions.  He  established  his  influence  over 
her  at  an  age  when  impressions  are  most  durable; 
and  it  was  easy  to  see  that  he  had  taken  pains  only 
to  render  himself  beloved  by  his  pupil,  and  had 
troubled  himself  very  little  with  the  care  of  in- 
structing her.  He  might  have  even  been  accused  of 
having,  by  a  sharp-sighted  though  culpable  policy, 
purposely  left  her  in  ignorance.  Marie  Antoinette 
spoke  the  French  language  with  much  grace,  but 
wrote  it  less  perfectly.  The  Abbe  de  Vermond  re- 
vised all  the  letters  which  she  sent  to  Vienna. 
The  insupportable  folly  with  which  he  boasted  of 
it  displayed  the  character  of  a  man  more  flattered 
at  being  admitted  into  her  intimate  secrets  than 
anxious  to  fulfil  worthily  the  high  office  of  her 
preceptor. 

His  pride  received  its  birth  at  Vienna,  where  Maria 
Theresa,  as  much  to  give  him  authority  with  the 
Archduchess  as  to  make  herself  acquainted  with  his 
character,  permitted  him  to  mix  every  evening  with 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  37 

the  private  circle  of  her  family,  into  which  the  future 
Dauphiness  had  been  admitted  for  some  time.  Joseph 
II.,  the  elder  Archduchess,  and  a  few  noblemen  hon- 
oured by  the  confidence  of  Maria  Theresa,  composed 
the  party;  and  reflections  on  the  world,  on  courts, 
and  the  duties  of  princes  were  the  usual  topics  of  con- 
versation. The  Abbe  de  Vermond,  in  relating  these 
particulars,  confessed  the  means  which  he  had  made 
use  of  to  gain  admission  into  this  private  circle.  The 
Empress,  meeting  him  at  the  Archduchess's,  asked  him 
if  he  had  formed  any  connections  in  Vienna.  "  None, 
Madame,"  replied  he;  "the  apartment  of  the  Arch- 
duchess and  the  hotel  of  the  ambassador  of  France 
are  the  only  places  which  the  man  honoured  with  the 
care  of  the  Princess's  education  should  frequent."  A 
month  afterwards  Maria  Theresa,  through  a  habit 
common  enough  among  sovereigns,  asked  him  the  same 
question,  and  received  precisely  the  same  answer. 
The  next  day  he  received  an  order  to  join  the  im- 
perial family  every  evening. 

It  is  extremely  probable,  from  the  constant  and 
well-known  intercourse  between  this  man  and  Comte 
de  Mercy,  ambassador  of  the  Empire  during  the 
whole  reign  of  Louis  XVI.,  that  he  was  useful  to 
the  Court  of  Vienna,  and  that  he  often  caused  the 
Queen  to  decide  on  measures,  the  consequences  of 
which  she  did  not  consider.  Not  of  high  birth,  im- 
bued with  all  the  principles  of  the  modern  philosophy, 
and  yet  holding  to  the  hierarchy  of  the  Church  more 
tenaciously  than  any  other  ecclesiastic;  vain,  talka- 
tive, and  at  the  same  time  cunning  and  abrupt;  very 
ugly  and  affecting  singularity;  treating  the  most 
exalted  persons  as  his  equals,  sometimes  even  as  his 
inferiors,  the  Abbe  de  Vermond  received  ministers 
and  bishops  when  in  his  bath;  but  said  at  the  same 
time  that  Cardinal  Dubois  was  a  fool;  that  a  man 


38  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

such  as  he,  having  obtained  power,  ought  to  make 
cardinals,  and  refuse  to  be  one  himself. 

Intoxicated  with  the  reception  he  had  met  with  at 
the  Court  of  Vienna,  and  having  till  then  seen  noth- 
ing of  high  life,  the  Abbe  de  Vermond  admired  no 
other  customs  than  those  of  the  imperial  family;  he 
ridiculed  the  etiquette  of  the  House  of  Bourbon  inces- 
santly; the  young  Dauphiness  was  constantly  incited 
by  his  sarcasms  to  get  rid  of  it,  and  it  was  he  who 
first  induced  her  to  suppress  an  infinity  of  practices 
of  which  he  could  discern  neither  the  prudence  nor  the 
political  aim.  Such  is  the  faithful  portrait  of  that 
man  whom  the  evil  star  of  Marie  Antoinette  had  re- 
served to  guide  her  first  steps  upon  a  stage  so  con- 
spicuous and  so  full  of  danger  as  that  of  the  Court  of 
Versailles. 

It  will  be  thought,  perhaps,  that  I  draw  the  charac- 
ter of  the  Abbe  de  Vermond  too  unfavourably;  but 
how  can  I  view  with  any  complacency  one  who,  after 
having  arrogated  to  himself  the  office  of  confidant 
and  sole  counsellor  of  the  Queen,  guided  her  with  so 
little  prudence,  and  gave  us  the  mortification  of  see- 
ing that  Princess  blend,  with  qualities  which  charmed 
all  that  surrounded  her,  errors  alike  injurious  to  her 
glory  and  her  happiness? 

While  M.  de  Choiseul,  satisfied  with  the  person 
whom  M.  de  Brienne  had  presented,  despatched  him 
to  Vienna  with  every  eulogium  calculated  to  inspire 
unbounded  confidence,  the  Marquis  de  Durfort  sent 
off  a  hairdresser  and  a  few  French  fashions;  and  then 
it  was  thought  sufficient  pains  had  been  taken  to  form 
the  character  of  a  princess  destined  to  share  the  throne 
of  France. 

The  marriage  of  Monseigneur  the  Dauphin  with  the 
Archduchess  was  determined  upon  during  the  admin- 
istration of  the  Due  de  Choiseul.    The  Marquis  de 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  39 

Durfort,  who  was  to  succeed  the  Baron  de  Breteuil  in 
the  embassy  to  Vienna,  was  appointed  proxy  for  the 
marriage  ceremony;  but  six  months  after  the  Dau- 
phin's marriage  the  Due  de  Choiseul  was  disgraced, 
and  Madame  de  Marsan  and  Madame  de  Guemenee, 
who  grew  more  powerful  through  the  Duke's  disgrace, 
conferred  that  embassy  upon  Prince  Louis  de  Rohan, 
afterwards  cardinal  and  grand  almoner. 

Hence  it  will  be  seen  that  the  Gazette  de  France 
is  a  sufficient  answer  to  those  libellers  who  dared  to 
assert  that  the  young  Archduchess  was  acquainted 
with  the  Cardinal  de  Rohan  before  the  period  of  her 
marriage.  A  worse  selection  in  itself,  or  one  more 
disagreeable  to  Maria  Theresa,  than  that  which  sent 
to  her,  in  quality  of  ambassador,  a  man  so  frivolous 
and  so  immoral  as  Prince  Louis  de  Rohan,  could  not 
have  been  made.  He  possessed  but  superficial  knowl- 
edge upon  any  subject,  and  was  totally  ignorant  of 
diplomatic  affairs.  His  reputation  had  gone  before 
him  to  Vienna,  and  his  mission  opened  under  the  most 
unfavourable  auspices.  In  want  of  money,  and  the 
House  of  Rohan  being  unable  to  make  him  any  con- 
siderable advances,  he  obtained  from  his  Court  a 
patent  which  authorised  him  to  borrow  the  sum  of 
600,000  livres  upon  his  benefices,  ran  in  debt  above 
a  million,  and  thought  to  dazzle  the  city  and  Court  of 
Vienna  by  the  most  indecent  and  ill-judged  extrava- 
gance. He  formed  a  suite  of  eight  or  ten  gentlemen, 
of  names  sufficiently  high-sounding;  twelve  pages 
equally  well  born,  a  crowd  of  officers  and  servants,  a 
company  of  chamber  musicians,  etc.  But  this  idle 
pomp  did  not  last;  embarrassment  and  distress  soon 
showed  themselves;  his  people,  no  longer  receiving 
pay,  in  order  to  make  money,  abused  the  privileges  of 
ambassadors,  and  smuggled  with  so  much  effrontery 
that  Maria  Theresa,  to  put  a  stop  to  it  without  offend- 


4o  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

ing  the  Court  of  France,  was  compelled  to  suppress 
the  privileges  in  this  respect  of  all  the  diplomatic 
bodies, — a  step  which  rendered  the  person  and  con- 
duct of  Prince  Louis  odious  in  every  foreign  Court. 
He  seldom  obtained  private  audiences  from  the  Em- 
press, who  did  not  esteem  him,  and  who  expressed 
herself  without  reserve  upon  his  conduct  both  as  a 
bishop  and  as  an  ambassador.  He  thought  to  obtain 
favour  by  assisting  to  effect  the  marriage  of  the  Arch- 
duchess Elizabeth,  the  elder  sister  of  Marie  Antoi- 
nette, with  Louis  XV.,  an  affair  which  was  awkwardly 
undertaken,  and  of  which  Madame  du  Barry  had 
no  difficulty  in  causing  the  failure.  I  have  deemed 
it  my  duty  to  omit  no  particular  of  the  moral  and 
political  character  of  a  man  whose  existence  was 
subsequently  so  injurious  to  the  reputation  of  Marie 
Antoinette. 


CHAPTER  III 

A  SUPERB  pavilion  had  been  prepared  upon  the 
frontier  near  Kehl.  It  consisted  of  a  vast 
salon,  connected  with  two  apartments,  one  of 
which  was  assigned  to  the  lords  and  ladies  of  the  Court 
of  Vienna,  and  the  other  to  the  suite  of  the  Dauphin- 
ess,  composed  of  the  Comtesse  de  Noailles,  her  lady 
of  honour;  the  Duchesse  de  Cosse,  her  dame  d'atours; 
four  ladies  of  the  palace;  the  Comte  de  Saulx- 
Tavennes,  chevalier  d'honnenr;  the  Comte  de  Tesse, 
first  equerry;  the  Bishop  of  Chartres,  first  almoner; 
the  officers  of  the  Body  Guard,  and  the  equerries. 

When  the  Dauphiness  had  been  entirely  undressed, 
in  order  that  she  might  retain  nothing  belonging  to 
a  foreign  Court  (an  etiquette  always  observed  on  such 
an  occasion),  the  doors  were  opened;  the  young  Prin- 
cess came  forward,  looking  round  for  the  Comtesse 
de  Noailles;  then,  rushing  into  her  arms,  she  implored 
her,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  with  heartfelt  sincer- 
ity, to  be  her  guide  and  support. 

While  doing  justice  to  the  virtues  of  the  Comtesse 
de  Noailles,  those  sincerely  attached  to  the  Queen  have 
always  considered  it  as  one  of  her  earliest  misfor- 
tunes not  to  have  found,  in  the  person  of  her  adviser, 
a  woman  indulgent,  enlightened,  and  administering 
good  advice  with  that  amiability  which  disposes  young 
persons  to  follow  it.  The  Comtesse  de  Noailles  had 
nothing  agreeable  in  her  appearance;  her  demeanour 
was  stiff  and  her  mien  severe.  She  was  perfect  mis- 
tress of  etiquette;  but  she  wearied  the  young  Princess 
with  it,  without  making  her  sensible  of  its  importance. 

41 


42  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

It  would  have  been  sufficient  to  represent  to  the 
Dauphiness  that  in  France  her  dignity  depended  much 
upon  customs  not  necessary  at  Vienna  to  secure  the 
respect  and  love  of  the  good  and  submissive  Austrians 
for  the  imperial  family;  but  the  Dauphiness  was  per- 
petually tormented  by  the  remonstrances  of  the  Com- 
tesse  de  Noailles,  and  at  the  same  time  was  led  by 
the  Abbe  de  Vermond  to  ridicule  both  the  lessons 
upon  etiquette  and  her  who  gave  them.  She  preferred 
raillery  to  argument,  and  nicknamed  the  Comtesse  de 
Noailles  Madame  I'Etiquctte. 

The  fetes  which  were  given  at  Versailles  on  the 
marriage  of  the  Dauphin  were  very  splendid.  The 
Dauphiness  arrived  there  at  the  hour  for  her  toilet, 
having  slept  at  La  Muette,  where  Louis  XV.  had 
been  to  receive  her;  and  where  that  Prince,  blinded 
by  a  feeling  unworthy  of  a  sovereign  and  the  father 
of  a  family,  caused  the  young  Princess,  the  royal 
family,  and  the  ladies  of  the  Court,  to  sit  down 
to  supper  with  Madame  du  Barry. 

The  Dauphiness  was  hurt  at  this  conduct;  she 
spoke  of  it  openly  enough  to  those  with  whom  she 
was  intimate,  but  she  knew  how  to  conceal  her  dis- 
satisfaction in  public,  and  her  behaviour  showed  no 
signs  of  it. 

She  was  received  at  Versailles  in  an  apartment  on 
the  ground  floor,  under  that  of  the  late  Queen,  which 
was  not  ready  for  her  until  six  months  after  her 
marriage. 

The  Dauphiness,  then  fifteen  years  of  age,  beam- 
ing with  freshness,  appeared  to  all  eyes  more  than 
beautiful.  Her  walk  partook  at  once  of  the  dignity 
of  the  Princesses  of  her  house,  and  of  the  grace  of 
the  French;  her  eyes  were  mild,  her  smile  amiable. 
When  she  went  to  chapel,  as  soon  as  she  had  taken 
the  first  few  steps  in  the  long  gallery,  she  discerned, 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  43 

all  the  way  to  its  extremity,  those  persons  whom  she 
ought  to  salute  with  the  consideration  due  to  their 
rank;  those  on  whom  she  should  bestow  an  inclina- 
tion of  the  head;  and  lastly,  those  who  were  to  be 
satisfied  with  a  smile,  calculated  to  console  them  for 
not  being  entitled  to  greater  honours. 

Louis  XV.  was  enchanted  with  the  young  Dauphin- 
ess;  all  his  conversation  was  about  her  graces,  her 
vivacity,  and  the  aptness  of  her  repartees.  She  was 
yet  more  successful  with  the  royal  family  when  they 
beheld  her  shorn  of  the  splendour  of  the  diamonds 
with  which  she  had  been  adorned  during  the  first 
days  of  her  marriage.  When  clothed  in  a  light  dress 
of  gauze  or  taffety  she  was  compared  to  the  Venus 
dei  Medici,  and  the  Atalanta  of  the  Marly  Gardens. 
Poets  sang  her  charms;  painters  attempted  to  copy 
her  features.  One  artist's  fancy  led  him  to  place  the 
portrait  of  Marie  Antoinette  in  the  heart  of  a  full- 
blown rose.  His  ingenious  idea  was  rewarded  by 
Louis  XV. 

The  King  continued  to  talk  only  of  the  Dauphiness; 
and  Madame  du  Barry  ill-naturedly  endeavoured  to 
damp  his  enthusiasm.  Whenever  Marie  Antoinette 
was  the  topic,  she  pointed  out  the  irregularity  of  her 
features,  criticised  the  bons  mots  quoted  as  hers,  and 
rallied  the  King  upon  his  prepossession  in  her  favour. 
Madame  du  Barry  was  affronted  at  not  receiving  from 
the  Dauphiness  those  attentions  to  which  she  thought 
herself  entitled;  she  did  not  conceal  her  vexation 
from  the  King;  she  was  afraid  that  the  grace  and 
cheerfulness  of  the  young  Princess  would  make  the 
domestic  circle  of  the  royal  family  more  agreeable  to 
the  old  sovereign,  and  that  he  would  escape  her 
chains;  at  the  same  time,  hatred  to  the  Choiseul 
party  contributed  powerfully  to  excite  the  enmity  of 
the  favourite. 


44  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  fall  of  that  minister  took  place  in  November, 
1770,  six  months  after  his  long  influence  in  the  Coun- 
cil had  brought  about  the  alliance  with  the  House 
of  Austria  and  the  arrival  of  Marie  Antoinette  at 
the  Court  of  France.  The  Princess,  young,  frank, 
volatile,  and  inexperienced,  found  herself  without  any- 
other  guide  than  the  Abbe  de  Vermond,  in  a  Court 
ruled  by  the  enemy  of  the  minister  who  had  brought 
her  there,  and  in  the  midst  of  people  who  hated  Aus- 
tria, and  detested  any  alliance  with  the  imperial  house. 

The  Due  d'Aiguillon,  the  Due  de  La  Vauguyon,  the 
Marechal  de  Richelieu,  the  Rohans,  and  other  con- 
siderable families,  who  had  made  use  of  Madame  du 
Barry  to  overthrow  the  Duke,  could  not  flatter  them- 
selves, notwithstanding  their  powerful  intrigues,  with 
a  hope  of  being  able  to  break  off  an  alliance  solemnly 
announced,  and  involving  such  high  political  interests. 
They  therefore  changed  their  mode  of  attack,  and  it 
will  be  seen  how  the  conduct  of  the  Dauphin  served  as 
a  basis  for  their  hopes. 

The  Dauphiness  continually  gave  proofs  of  both 
sense  and  feeling.  Sometimes  she  even  suffered 
herself  to  be  carried  away  by  those  transports  of 
compassionate  kindness  which  are  not  to  be  controlled 
by  the  customs  which  rank  establishes. 

In  consequence  of  the  fire  in  the  Place  Louis  Xy., 
which  occurred  at  the  time  of  the  nuptial  entertain- 
ments, the  Dauphin  and  Dauphiness  sent  their  whole 
income  for  the  year  to  the  relief  of  the  unfortunate 
families  who  lost  their  relatives  on  that  disastrous  day. 

This  was  one  of  those  ostentatious  acts  of  generosity 
which  are  dictated  by  the  policy  of  princes,  at  least  as 
much  as  by  their  compassion;  but  the  grief  of  Marie 
Antoinette  was  profound,  and  lasted  several  days; 
nothing  could  console  her  for  the  loss  of  so  many 
innocent  victims;   she  spoke  of  it,   weeping,  to  her 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  45 

ladies,  one  of  whom,  thinking,  no  doubt,  to  divert 
her  mind,  told  her  that  a  great  number  of  thieves 
had  been  found  among  the  bodies,  and  that  their 
pockets  were  filled  with  watches  and  other  valuables. 
"  They  have  at  least  been  well  punished,"  added  the 
person  who  related  these  particulars.  "  Oh,  no,  no, 
madame!  "  replied  the  Dauphiness;  "  they  died  by  the 
side  of  honest  people." 

The  Dauphiness  had  brought  from  Vienna  a  con- 
siderable number  of  white  diamonds;  the  King  added 
to  them  the  gift  of  the  diamonds  and  pearls  of  the 
late  Dauphiness,  and  also  put  into  her  hands  a  collar 
of  pearls,  of  a  single  row,  the  smallest  of  which  was 
as  large  as  a  filbert,  and  which  had  been  brought  into 
France  by  Anne  of  Austria,  and  appropriated  by  that 
Princess  to  the  use  of  the  Queens  and  Dauphinesses 
of  France. 

The  three  Princesses,  daughters  of  Louis  XV., 
joined  in  making  her  magnificent  presents.  Ma- 
dame Adelaide  at  the  same  time  gave  the  young 
Princess  a  key  to  the  private  corridors  of  the  Cha- 
teau, by  means  of  which,  without  any  suite,  and  with- 
out being  perceived,  she  could  get  to  the  apartments 
of  her  aunts,  and  see  them  in  private.  The  Dauphin- 
ess, on  receiving  the  key,  told  them,  with  infinite  grace, 
that  if  they  had  meant  to  make  her  appreciate  the 
superb  presents  they  were  kind  enough  to  bestow 
upon  her,  they  should  not  at  the  same  time  have 
offered  her  one  of  such  inestimable  value;  since  to 
that  key  she  should  be  indebted  for  an  intimacy  and 
advice  unspeakably  precious  at  her  age.  She  did,  in- 
deed, make  use  of  it  very  frequently;  but  Madame 
Victoire  alone  permitted  her,  so  long  as  she  continued 
Dauphiness,  to  visit  her  familiarly.  Madame  Adelaide 
could  not  overcome  her  prejudices  against  Austrian 
princesses,  and  was  wearied  with  the  somewhat  petu- 


46  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

lant  gaiety  of  the  Dauphiness.  Madame  Victoire  was 
concerned  at  this,  feeling  that  their  society  and 
counsel  would  have  been  highly  useful  to  a  young 
person  otherwise  likely  to  meet  with  none  but  syco- 
phants. She  endeavoured,  therefore,  to  induce  her 
to  take  pleasure  in  the  society  of  the  Marquise  de 
Durfort,  her  lady  of  honour  and  favourite.  Sev- 
eral agreeable  entertainments  took  place  at  the  house 
of  this  lady,  but  the  Comtesse  de  Noailles  and  the 
Abbe  de  Vermond  soon  opposed  these  meetings. 

A  circumstance  which  happened  in  hunting,  near 
the  village  of  Acheres,  in  the  forest  of  Fontainebleau, 
afforded  the  young  Princess  an  opportunity  of  dis- 
playing her  respect  for  old  age,  and  her  compassion 
for  misfortune.  An  aged  peasant  was  wounded  by 
the  stag;  the  Dauphiness  jumped  out  of  her  calash, 
placed  the  peasant,  with  his  wife  and  children,  in 
it,  had  the  family  taken  back  to  their  cottage,  and 
bestowed  upon  them  every  attention  and  every  nec- 
essary assistance.  Her  heart  was  always  open  to 
the  feelings  of  compassion,  and  the  recollection  of 
her  rank  never  restrained  her  sensibility.  Several 
persons  in  her  service  entered  her  room  one  evening, 
expecting  to  find  nobody  there  but  the  officer  in 
waiting;  they  perceived  the  young  Princess  seated  by 
the  side  of  this  man,  who  was  advanced  in  years; 
she  had  placed  near  him  a  bowl  full  of  water,  was 
stanching  the  blood  which  issued  from  a  wound  he 
had  received  in  his  hand  with  her  handkerchief, 
which  she  had  torn  up  to  bind  it,  and  was  fulfilling 
towards  him  all  the  duties  of  a  pious  sister  of  charity. 
The  old  man,  affected  even  to  tears,  out  of  respect 
allowed  his  august  mistress  to  act  as  she  thought 
proper.  He  had  hurt  himself  in  endeavouring  to 
move  a  rather  heavy  piece  of  furniture  at  the  Prin- 
cess's request. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  47 

In  the  month  of  July,  1770,  an  unfortunate  oc- 
currence that  took  place  in  a  family  which  the 
Dauphiness  honoured  with  her  favour  contributed 
again  to  show  not  only  her  sensibility  but  also  the 
benevolence  of  her  disposition.  One  of  her  women 
in  waiting  had  a  son  who  was  an  officer  in  the  gens 
d'armes  of  the  guard;  this  young  man  thought  him- 
self affronted  by  a  clerk  in  the  War  Department, 
and  imprudently  sent  him  a  challenge;  he  killed  his 
adversary  in  the  forest  of  Compiegne.  The  family  of 
the  young  man  who  was  killed,  being  in  possession 
of  the  challenge,  demanded  justice.  The  King,  dis- 
tressed on  account  of  several  duels  which  had  recently 
taken  place,  had  unfortunately  declared  that  he  would 
show  no  mercy  on  the  first  event  of  that  kind  which 
could  be  proved;  the  culprit  was  therefore  arrested. 
His  mother,  in  the  deepest  grief,  hastened  to  throw 
herself  at  the  feet  of  the  Dauphiness,  the  Dauphin, 
and  the  young  Princesses.  After  an  hour's  suppli- 
cation they  obtained  from  the  King  the  favour  so 
much  desired.  On  the  next  day  a  lady  of  rank, 
while  congratulating  the  Dauphiness,  had  the  malice 
to  add  that  the  mother  had  neglected  no  means  of 
success  on  the  occasion,  having  solicited  not  only 
the  royal  family,  but  even  Madame  du  Barry.  The 
Dauphiness  replied  that  the  fact  justified  the  favour- 
able opinion  she  had  formed  of  the  worthy  woman; 
that  the  heart  of  a  mother  should  hesitate  at  nothing 
for  the  salvation  of  her  son;  and  that  in  her  place, 
if  she  had  thought  it  would  be  serviceable,  she  would 
have  thrown  herself  at  the  feet  of  Zamor. 

Some  time  after  the  marriage  entertainments  the 
Dauphiness  made  her  entry  into  Paris,  and  was 
received  with  transports  of  joy.  After  dining  in  the 
King's  apartment  at  the  Tuileries,  she  was  forced, 
by  the  reiterated  shouts  of  the  multitude,  with  whom 


48  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  garden  was  filled,  to  present  herself  upon  the 
balcony  fronting  the  principal  walk.  On  seeing  such 
a  crowd  of  heads  with  their  eyes  fixed  upon  her,  she 
exclaimed,  "  Grand  Dieit!  what  a  concourse!  "  "  Ma- 
dame," said  the  old  Due  de  Brissac,  the  Governor 
of  Paris,  "  I  may  tell  you,  without  fear  of  offend- 
ing the  Dauphin,  that  they  are  so  many  lovers." 
The  Dauphin  took  no  umbrage  at  either  acclamations 
or  marks  of  homage  of  which  the  Dauphiness  was  the 
object.  The  most  mortifying  indifference,  a  coldness 
which  frequently  degenerated  into  rudeness,  were  the 
sole  feelings  which  the  young  Prince  then  manifested 
towards  her.  Not  all  her  charms  could  gain  even 
upon  his  senses.  This  estrangement,  which  lasted 
a  long  time,  was  said  to  be  the  work  of  the  Due 
de  La  Vauguyon.  The  Dauphiness,  in  fact,  had  no 
sincere  friends  at  Court  except  the  Due  de  Choiseul 
and  his  party.  Will  it  be  credited  that  the  plans 
laid  against  Marie  Antoinette  went  so  far  as  divorce? 
I  have  been  assured  of  it  by  persons  holding  high 
situations  at  Court,  and  many  circumstances  tend  to 
confirm  the  opinion.  On  the  journey  to  Fontaine- 
bleau,  in  the  year  of  the  marriage,  the  inspectors  of 
public  buildings  were  gained  over  to  manage  so  that 
the  apartment  intended  for  the  Dauphin,  communi- 
cating with  that  of  the  Dauphiness,  should  not  be 
finished,  and  a  room  at  the  extremity  of  the  building 
was  temporarily  assigned  to  him.  The  Dauphiness, 
aware  that  this  was  the  result  of  intrigue,  had  the 
courage  to  complain  of  it  to  Louis  XV.,  who,  after 
severe  reprimands,  gave  orders  so  positive  that  within 
the  week  the  apartment  was  ready.  Every  method 
was  tried  to  continue  or  augment  the  indifference 
which  the  Dauphin  long  manifested  towards  his  youth- 
ful spouse.  She  was  deeply  hurt  at  it,  but  she  never 
suffered  herself  to  utter  the  slightest  complaint  on  the 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  49 

subject.  Inattention  to,  even  conttmpt  for,  the  charms 
which  she  heard  extolled  on  all  sides,  nothing  induced 
her  to  break  silence;  and  some  tears,  which  would  in- 
voluntarily burst  from  her  eyes,  were  the  sole  symp- 
toms of  her  inward  sufferings  discoverable  by  those  in 
her  service. 

Once  only,  when  tired  out  with  the  misplaced  re- 
monstrances of  an  old  lady  attached  to  her  person, 
who  wished  to  dissuade  her  from  riding  on  horseback, 
under  the  impression  that  it  would  prevent  her  pro- 
ducing heirs  to  the  crown,  "  Mademoiselle,"  said  she, 
"  in  God's  name,  leave  me  in  peace;  be  assured  that  I 
can  put  no  heir  in  danger." 

The  Dauphiness  found  at  the  Court  of  Louis  XV., 
besides  the  three  Princesses,  the  King's  daughters,  the 
Princes  also,  brothers  of  the  Dauphin,  who  were  re- 
ceiving their  education,  and  Clotilde  and  Elisabeth, 
still  in  the  care  of  Madame  de  Marsan,  governess  of 
the  children  of  France.  The  elder  of  the  two  latter 
Princesses,  in  1777,  married  the  Prince  of  Piedmont, 
afterwards  King  of  Sardinia.  This  Princess  was  in 
her  infancy  so  extremely  large  that  the  people  nick- 
named her  gros  Madame.  The  second  Princess  was 
the  pious  Elisabeth,  the  victim  of  her  respect  and  ten- 
der attachment  for  the  King,  her  brother.  She  was 
still  scarcely  out  of  her  leading-strings  at  the  period 
of  the  Dauphin's  marriage.  The  Dauphiness  showed 
her  marked  preference.  The  governess,  who  sought 
to  advance  the  Princess  to  whom  nature  had  been  least 
favourable,  was  offended  at  the  Dauphiness's  partiality 
for  Madame  Elisabeth,  and  by  her  injudicious  com- 
plaints weakened  the  friendship  which  yet  subsisted  be- 
tween Madame  Clotilde  and  Marie  Antoinette.  There 
even  arose  some  degree  of  rivalry  on  the  subject  of 
education;  and  that  which  the  Empress  Maria  The- 
resa bestowed  on  her  daughters  was  talked  of  openly 


5o  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  unfavourably  enough.  The  Abbe  de  Vermond 
thought  himself  affronted,  took  a  part  in  the  quarrel, 
and  added  his  complaints  and  jokes  to  those  of  the 
Dauphiness  on  the  criticisms  of  the  governess;  he  even 
indulged  himself  in  his  turn  in  reflections  on  the  tui- 
tion of  Madame  Clotilde.  Everything  becomes  known 
at  Court.  Madame  de  Marsan  was  informed  of  all 
that  had  been  said  in  the  Dauphiness's  circle,  and  was 
very  angry  with  her  on  account  of  it. 

From  that  moment  a  centre  of  intrigue,  or  rather 
gossip,  against  Marie  Antoinette  was  established  round 
Madame  de  Marsan's  fireside;  her  most  trifling  actions 
were  there  construed  ill;  her  gaiety,  and  the  harmless 
amusements  in  which  she  sometimes  indulged  in  her 
own  apartments  with  the  more  youthful  ladies  of  her 
train,  and  even  with  the  women  in  her  service,  were 
stigmatised  as  criminal.  Prince  Louis  de  Rohan,  sent 
through  the  influence  of  this  clique  ambassador  to 
Vienna,  was  the  echo  there  of  these  unmerited  com- 
ments, and  threw  himself  into  a  series  of  culpable  ac- 
cusations which  he  proffered  under  the  guise  of  zeal. 
He  ceaselessly  represented  the  young  Dauphiness  as 
alienating  all  hearts  by  levities  unsuitable  to  the  dig- 
nity of  the  French  Court.  The  Princess  frequently 
received  from  the  Court  of  Vienna  remonstrances,  of 
the  origin  of  which  she  could  not  long  remain  in  ig- 
norance. From  this  period  must  be  dated  that  aver- 
sion which  she  never  ceased  to  manifest  for  the  Prince 
de  Rohan. 

About  the  same  time  the  Dauphiness  received  in- 
formation of  a  letter  written  by  Prince  Louis  to  the 
Due  d'Aiguillon,  in  which  the  ambassador  expressed 
himself  in  very  free  language  respecting  the  inten- 
tions of  Maria  Theresa  with  relation  to  the  partition 
of  Poland.  This  letter  of  Prince  Louis  had  been  read 
at  the  Comtesse  du  Barry's;  the  levity  of  the  ambassa- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  51 

dor's  correspondence  wounded  the  feelings  and  the  dig- 
nity of  the  Dauphiness  at  Versailles,  while  at  Vienna 
the  representations  which  he  made  to  Maria  Theresa 
against  the  young  Princess  terminated  in  rendering  the 
motives  of  his  incessant  complaints  suspected  by  the 
Empress. 

Maria  Theresa  at  length  determined  on  sending  her 
private  secretary,  Baron  de  Neni,  to  Versailles,  with 
directions  to  observe  the  conduct  of  the  Dauphiness 
with  attention,  and  form  a  just  estimate  of  the  opin- 
ion of  the  Court  and  of  Paris  with  regard  to  that 
Princess.  The  Baron  de  Neni,  after  having  devoted 
sufficient  time  and  intelligence  to  the  subject,  unde- 
ceived his  sovereign  as  to  the  exaggerations  of  the 
French  ambassador;  and  the  Empress  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  detecting,  among  the  calumnies  which  he  had 
conveyed  to  her  under  the  specious  excuse  of  anxiety 
for  her  august  daughter,  proofs  of  the  enmity  of  a 
party  which  had  never  approved  of  the  alliance  of  the 
House  of  Bourbon  with  her  own. 

At  this  period  the  Dauphiness,  though  unable  to 
obtain  any  influence  over  the  heart  of  her  husband, 
dreading  Louis  XV.,  and  justly  mistrusting  everything 
connected  with  Madame  du  Barry  and  the  Due  d'Ai- 
guillon,  had  not  deserved  the  slightest  reproach  for 
that  sort  of  levity  which  hatred  and  her  misfortunes 
afterwards  construed  into  crime.  The  Empress,  con- 
vinced of  the  innocence  of  Marie  Antoinette,  directed 
the  Baron  de  Neni  to  solicit  the  recall  of  the  Prince 
de  Rohan,  and  to  inform  the  Minister  for  Foreign 
Affairs  of  all  the  motives  which  made  her  require  it; 
but  the  House  of  Rohan  interposed  between  its  protege 
and  the  Austrian  envoy,  and  an  evasive  answer  merely 
was  given. 

It  was  not  until  two  months  after  the  death  of 
Louis  XV.  that  the  Court  of  Vienna  obtained  his  re- 


52  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

call.  The  avowed  grounds  for  requiring  it  were,  first, 
the  public  gallantries  of  Prince  Louis  with  some  ladies 
of  the  Court  and  others,  secondly,  his  surliness  and 
haughtiness  towards  other  foreign  ministers,  which 
would  have  had  more  serious  consequences,  especially 
with  the  ministers  of  England  and  Denmark,  if  the 
Empress  herself  had  not  interfered;  thirdly,  his  con- 
tempt for  religion  in  a  country  where  it  was  particu- 
larly necessary  to  show  respect  for  it.  He  had  been 
seen  frequently  to  dress  himself  in  clothes  of  dif- 
ferent colours,  assuming  the  hunting  uniforms  of  vari- 
ous noblemen  whom  he  visited,  with  so  much  audacity 
that  one  day  in  particular,  during  the  Fete  Dien,  he 
and  all  his  legation,  in  green  uniforms  laced  with  gold, 
broke  through  a  procession  which  impeded  them,  in 
order  to  make  their  way  to  a  hunting  party  at  the 
Prince  de  Paar's;  and  fourthly,  the  immense  debts  con- 
tracted by  him  and  his  people,  which  were  tardily 
and   only   in   part   discharged. 

The  succeeding  marriages  of  the  Comte  de  Provence 
and  the  Comte  d'Artois  with  two  daughters  of  the 
King  of  Sardinia  procured  society  for  the  Dauphiness 
more  suitable  to  her  age,  and  altered  her  mode  of 
life. 

A  pair  of  tolerably  fine  eyes  drew  forth,  in  favour 
of  the  Comtesse  de  Provence,  upon  her  arrival  at  Ver- 
sailles, the  only  praises  which  could  reasonably  be  be- 
stowed upon  her.  The  Comtesse  d'Artois,  though  not 
deformed,  was  very  small;  she  had  a  fine  complexion; 
her  face,  tolerably  pleasing,  was  not  remarkable  for 
anything  except  the  extreme  length  of  the  nose.  But 
being  good  and  generous,  she  was  beloved  by  those 
about  her,  and  even  possessed  some  influence  so  long 
as  she  was  the  only  Princess  who  had  produced  heirs 
to  the  crown. 

From  this  time  the  closest  intimacy  subsisted  be- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  53 

tween  the  three  young  families.  They  took  their  meals 
together,  except  on  those  days  when  they  dined  in  pub- 
lic. This  manner  of  living  en  fmnille  continued  until 
the  Queen  sometimes  indulged  herself  in  going  to  dine 
with  the  Duchesse  de  Polignac,  when  she  was  gov- 
erness; but  the  evening  meetings  at  supper  were  never 
interrupted;  they  took  place  at  the  house  of  the  Com- 
tesse  de  Provence.  Madame  Elisabeth  made  one  of 
the  party  when  she  had  finished  her  education,  and 
sometimes  Mesdames,  the  King's  aunts,  were  invited. 
The  custom,  which  had  no  precedent  at  Court,  was  the 
work  of  Marie  Antoinette,  and  she  maintained  it  with 
the  utmost  perseverance. 

The  Court  of  Versailles  saw  no  change  in  point  of 
etiquette  during  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  Play  took  ' 
place  at  the  house  of  the  Dauphiness,  as  being  the 
first  lady  of  the  State.  It  had,  from  the  death  of 
Queen  Maria  Leczinska  to  the  marriage  of  the  Dau- 
phin, been  held  at  the  abode  of  Madame  Adelaide. 
This  removal,  the  result  of  an  order  of  precedence  not 
to  be  violated,  was  not  the  less  displeasing  to  Madame 
Adelaide,  who  established  a  separate  party  for  play  in 
her  apartments,  and  scarcely  ever  went  to  that  which 
not  only  the  Court  in  general,  but  also  the  royal 
family,  were  expected  to  attend.  The  full-dress  visits 
to  the  King  on  his  dcbotter  were  continued.  High 
mass  was  attended  daily.  The  airings  of  the  Princesses 
were  nothing  more  than  rapid  races  in  berlins, 
during  which  they  were  accompanied  by  Body  Guards, 
equerries,  and  pages  on  horseback.  They  galloped  for 
some  leagues  from  Versailles.  Calashes  were  used 
only  in  hunting. 

The  young  Princesses  were  desirous  to  infuse  ani- 
mation into  their  circle  of  associates  by  something  use- 
ful as  well  as  pleasant.  They  adopted  the  plan  of  learn- 
ing and  performing  all  the  best  plays  of  the  French 


54  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

theatre.  The  Dauphin  was  the  only  spectator.  The 
three  Princesses,  the  two  brothers  of  the  King  and 
Messieurs  Campan,  father  and  son,  were  the  sole  per- 
formers, but  they  endeavoured  to  keep  this  amusement 
as  secret  as  an  affair  of  State;  they  dreaded  the  cen- 
sure of  Mesdames,  and  they  had  no  doubt  that  Louis 
XV.  would  forbid  such  pastimes  if  he  knew  of  them. 
They  selected  for  their  performance  a  cabinet  in  the 
entresol  which  nobody  had  occasion  to  enter.  A  kind 
of  proscenium,  which  could  be  taken  down  and  shut 
up  in  a  closet,  formed  the  whole  theatre.  The  Comte 
de  Provence  always  knew  his  part  with  imperturbable 
accuracy;  the  Comte  d'Artois  knew  his  tolerably  well, 
and  recited  elegantly;  the  Princesses  acted  badly.  The 
Dauphiness  acquitted  herself  in  some  characters  with 
discrimination  and  feeling.  The  chief  pleasure  of 
this  amusement  consisted  in  all  the  costumes  being 
elegant  and  accurate.  The  Dauphin  entered  into  the 
spirit  of  these  diversions,  and  laughed  heartily  at  the 
comic  characters  as  they  came  on  the  scene;  from  these 
amusements  may  be  dated  his  discontinuance  of  the 
timid  manner  of  his  youth,  and  his  taking  pleasure  in 
the  society  of  the  Dauphiness. 

It  was  not  till  a  long  time  afterwards  that  I  learnt 
these  particulars,  M.  Campan  having  kept  the  secret; 
but  an  unforeseen  event  had  well-nigh  exposed  the 
whole  mystery.  One  day  the  Queen  desired  M.  Cam- 
pan  to  go  down  into  her  closet  to  fetch  something  that 
she  had  forgotten;  he  was  dressed  for  the  character  of 
Crispin,  and  was  rouged.  A  private  staircase  led  di- 
rect to  the  entresol  through  the  dressing-room.  M. 
Campan  fancied  he  heard  some  noise,  and  remained 
still,  behind  the  door,  which  was  shut.  A  servant  be- 
longing to  the  wardrobe,  who  was,  in  fact,  on  the 
staircase,  had  also  heard  some  noise,  and,  either  from 
fear  or  curiosity,  he  suddenly  opened  the  door;  the 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  55 

figure  of  Crispin  frightened  him  so  that  he  fell  down 
backwards,  shouting  with  his  might,  "Help!  help!" 
My  father-in-law  raised  him  up,  made  him  recognize 
his  voice,  and  laid  upon  him  an  injunction  of  silence 
as  to  what  he  had  seen.  He  felt  himself,  however, 
bound  to  inform  the  Dauphiness  of  what  had  hap- 
pened, and  she  was  afraid  that  a  similar  occurrence 
might  betray  their  amusements.  They  were  therefore 
discontinued. 

The  Princess  occupied  her  time  in  her  own  apart- 
ment in  the  study  of  music  and  the  parts  in  plays 
which  she  had  to  learn;  the  latter  exercise,  at  least, 
produced  the  beneficial  effect  of  strengthening  her 
memory  and  familiarising  her  with  the  French  lan- 
guage. 

While  Louis  XV.  reigned,  the  enemies  of  Marie  An- 
toinette made  no  attempt  to  change  public  opinion 
with  regard  to  her.  She  was  always  popular  with  the 
French  people  in  general,  and  particularly  with  the 
inhabitants  of  Paris,  who  went  on  every  opportunity  to 
Versailles,  the  majority  of  them  attracted  solely  by 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  her.  The  courtiers  did  not  fully 
enter  into  the  popular  enthusiasm  which  the  Dauphin- 
ess had  inspired;  the  disgrace  of  the  Due  de  Choiseul 
had  removed  her  real  support  from  her;  and  the  party 
which  had  the  ascendency  at  Court  since  the  exile  of 
that  minister  was,  politically,  as  much  opposed  to  her 
family  as  to  herself.  The  Dauphiness  was  therefore 
surrounded  by  enemies  at  Versailles. 

Nevertheless  everybody  appeared  outwardly  de- 
sirous to  please  her;  for  the  age  of  Louis  XV.,  and 
the  apathetic  character  of  the  Dauphin,  sufficiently 
warned  courtiers  of  the  important  part  reserved  for 
the  Princess  during  the  following  reign,  in  case  the 
Dauphin  should  become  attached  to  her. 


CHAPTER  IV 

A  BOUT  the  beginning  of  May,  1774,  Louis  XV., 
/\  the  strength  of  whose  constitution  had  prom- 
^  -^  ised  a  long  enough  life,  was  attacked  by  con- 
fluent smallpox  of  the  worst  kind.  Mesdames  at  this 
juncture  inspired  the  Dauphiness  with  a  feeling  of 
respect  and  attachment,  of  which  she  gave  them  re- 
peated proofs  when  she  ascended  the  throne.  In  fact, 
nothing  was  more  admirable  nor  more  affecting  than 
the  courage  with  which  they  braved  that  most  horrible 
disease.  The  air  of  the  palace  was  infected;  more 
than  fifty  persons  took  the  smallpox,  in  consequence 
of  having  merely  loitered  in  the  galleries  of  Versailles, 
and  ten  died  of  it. 

The  end  of  the  monarch  was  approaching.  His 
reign,  peaceful  in  general,  had  inherited  strength  from 
the  power  of  his  predecessor;  on  the  other  hand,  his 
own  weakness  had  been  preparing  misfortune  for  who- 
ever should  reign  after  him.  The  scene  was  about  to 
change;  hope,  ambition,  joy,  grief,  and  all  those  feel- 
ings which  variously  affected  the  hearts  of  the  cour- 
tiers, sought  in  vain  to  disguise  themselves  under  a 
calm  exterior.  It  was  easy  to  detect  the  different  mo- 
tives which  induced  them  every  moment  to  repeat  to 
everyone  the  question:  "How  is  the  King?"  At 
length,  on  the  10th  of  May,  1774,  the  mortal  career 
of  Louis  XV.  terminated. 

The  Comtesse  du  Barry  had,  a  few  days  previously, 
withdrawn  to  Ruelle,  to  the  Due  d'Aiguillon's.  Twelve 
or  fifteen  persons  belonging  to  the  Court  thought  it 
their  duty  to  visit  her  there;  their  liveries  were  ob- 

56 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  57 

served,  and  these  visits  were  for  a  long  time  grounds 
for  disfavour.  More  than  six  years  after  the  King's 
death  one  of  these  persons  being  spoken  of  in  the  circle 
of  the  royal  family,  I  heard  it  remarked,  "  That  was 
one  of  the  fifteen  Ruelle  carriages." 

The  whole  Court  went  to  the  Chateau;  the  ceil-de- 
boenf  was  filled  with  courtiers,  and  the  palace  with  the 
inquisitive.  The  Dauphin  had  settled  that  he  would 
depart  with  the  royal  family  the  moment  the  King 
should  breathe  his  last  sigh.  But  on  such  an  occasion 
decency  forbade  that  positive  orders  for  departure 
should  be  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth.  The  heads 
of  the  stables,  therefore,  agreed  with  the  people  who 
were  in  the  King's  room,  that  the  latter  should  place  a 
lighted  taper  near  a  window,  and  that  at  the  instant  of 
the  King's  decease  one  of  them  should  extinguish  it. 

The  taper  was  extinguished.  On  this  signal  the 
Body  Guards,  pages,  and  equerries  mounted  on  horse- 
back, and  all  was  ready  for  setting  off.  The  Dauphin 
was  with  the  Dauphiness.  They  were  expecting  to- 
gether the  intelligence  of  the  death  of  Louis  XV.  A 
dreadful  noise,  absolutely  like  thunder,  was  heard  in 
the  outer  apartment;  it  was  the  crowd  of  courtiers 
who  were  deserting  the  dead  sovereign's  antechamber, 
to  come  and  do  homage  to  the  new  power  of  Louis 
XVI.  This  extraordinary  tumult  informed  Marie  An- 
toinette and  her  husband  that  they  were  called  to  the 
throne;  and,  by  a  spontaneous  movement,  which  deeply 
affected  those  around  them,  they  threw  themselves 
on  their  knees;  both,  pouring  forth  a  flood  of  tears, 
exclaimed :  "  0  God!  guide  us,  protect  us;  we  are  too 
young  to  reign." 

The  Comtesse  de  Noailles  entered,  and  was  the  first 
to  salute  Marie  Antoinette  as  Queen  of  France.  She 
requested  their  Majesties  to  condescend  to  quit  the 
inner  apartments  for  the  grand  salon,  to  receive  the 


58  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

Princes  and  all  the  great  officers,  who  were  desirous 
to  do  homage  to  their  new  sovereigns.  Marie  Antoi- 
nette received  these  first  visits  leaning  upon  her  hus- 
band, with  her  handkerchief  held  to  her  eyes;  the 
carriages  drove  up,  the  guards  and  equerries  were 
on  horseback.  The  Chateau  was  deserted;  every  one 
hastened  to  fly  from  contagion,  which  there  was  no 
longer  any  inducement  to  brave. 

On  leaving  the  chamber  of  Louis  XV.,  the  Due  de 
Villequier,  first  gentleman  of  the  bedchamber  for  the 
year,  ordered  M.  Andouille,  the  King's  chief  surgeon, 
to  open  the  body  and  embalm  it.  The  chief  surgeon 
would  inevitably  have  died  in  consequence.  "  I  am 
ready,"  replied  Andouille,  "  but  while  I  operate  you 
shall  hold  the  head;  your  office  imposes  this  duty  upon 
you."  The  Duke  went  off  without  saying  a  word,  and 
the  corpse  was  neither  opened  nor  embalmed.  A  few 
under-servants  and  workmen  continued  with  the  pes- 
tiferous remains,  and  paid  the  last  duty  to  their  mas- 
ter; the  surgeons  directed  that  spirits  of  wine  should 
be  poured  into  the  coffin. 

The  entire  Court  set  off  for  Choisy  at  four  o'clock; 
Mesdames  the  King's  aunts  in  their  private  carriage, 
and  the  Princesses  under  tuition  with  the  Comtesse  de 
Marsan  and  the  under-governesses.  The  King,  the 
Queen,  Monsieur,  the  King's  brother,  Madame,  and 
the  Comte  and  Comtesse  d'Artois  went  in  the  same 
carriage.  The  solemn  scene  that  had  just  passed  be- 
fore their  eyes,  the  multiplied  ideas  offered  to  their 
imaginations  by  that  which  was  just  opening,  had 
naturally  inclined  them  to  grief  and  reflection;  but, 
by  the  Queen's  own  confession,  this  inclination,  little 
suited  to  their  age,  wholly  left  them  before  they  had 
gone  half  their  journey;  a  word,  drolly  mangled  by 
the  Comtesse  d'Artois,  occasioned  a  general  burst  of 
laughter;  and  from  that  moment  they  dried  their  tears. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  59 

The  communication  between  Choisy  and  Paris  was 
incessant;  never  was  a  Court  seen  in  greater  agitation. 
What  influence  will  the  royal  aunts  have, — and  the 
Queen?  What  fate  is  reserved  for  the  Comtesse  du 
Barry?  Whom  will  the  young  King  choose  for  his 
ministers?  All  these  questions  were  answered  in  a 
few  days.  It  was  determined  that  the  King's  youth 
required  a  confidential  person  near  him;  and  that  there 
should  be  a  prime  minister.  All  eyes  were  turned  upon 
De  Machault  and  De  Maurepas,  both  of  them  much 
advanced  in  years.  The  first  had  retired  to  his  estate 
near  Paris;  and  the  second  to  Pont  Chartrain,  to  which 
place  he  had  long  been  exiled.  The  letter  recalling 
M.  de  Machault  was  written,  when  Madame  Adelaide 
obtained  the  preference  of  that  important  appointment 
for  M.  de  Maurepas.  The  page  to  whose  care  the 
first  letter  had  been  actually  consigned  was  recalled. 

The  Due  d'Aiguillon  had  been  too  openly  known  as 
the  private  friend  of  the  King's  mistress;  he  was  dis- 
missed. M.  de  Vergennes,  at  that  time  ambassador 
of  France  at  Stockholm,  was  appointed  Minister  for 
Foreign  Affairs;  Comte  du  Muy,  the  intimate  friend 
of  the  Dauphin,  the  father  of  Louis  XVI.,  obtained 
the  War  Department.  The  Abbe  Terray  in  vain  said, 
and  wrote,  that  he  had  boldly  done  all  possible  injury 
to  the  creditors  of  the  State  during  the  reign  of  the 
late  King;  that  order  was  restored  in  the  finances;  that 
nothing  but  what  was  beneficial  to  all  parties  remained 
to  be  done;  and  that  the  new  Court  was  about  to  en- 
joy the  advantages  of  the  regenerating  part  of  his  plan 
of  finance;  all  these  reasons,  set  forth  in  five  or  six 
memorials,  which  he  sent  in  succession  to  the  King 
and  Queen,  did  not  avail  to  keep  him  in  office.  His 
talents  were  admitted,  but  the  odium  which  his  opera- 
tions had  necessarily  brought  upon  his  character,  com- 
bined with  the  immorality  of  his  private  life,  forbade 


60  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

his  further  stay  at  Court;  he  was  succeeded  by  M.  de 
Clugnv.  De  Maupeou,  the  chancellor,  was  exiled ;  this 
caused  universal  joy.  Lastly,  the  reassembling  of  the 
Parliaments  produced  the  strongest  sensation;  Paris 
was  in  a  delirium  of  joy,  and  not  more  than  one  per- 
son in  a  hundred  foresaw  that  the  spirit  of  the  ancient 
magistracy  would  be  still  the  same;  and  that  in  a  short 
time  it  would  make  new  attempts  upon  the  royal 
authority.  Madame  du  Barry  had  been  exiled  to 
Pont-aux-Dames.  This  was  a  measure  rather  of  ne- 
cessity than  of  severity;  a  short  period  of  compulsory 
retreat  was  requisite  in  order  completely  to  break  off 
her  connections  with  State  affairs.  The  possession  of 
Louveciennes  and  a  considerable  pension  were  con- 
tinued to  her. 

Everybody  expected  the  recall  of  M.  de  Choiseul; 
the  regret  occasioned  by  his  absence  among  the  nu- 
merous friends  when  he  had  left  at  Court,  the 
attachment  of  the  young  Princess  who  was  indebted 
to  him  for  her  elevation  to  the  throne  of  France, 
and  all  concurring  circumstances,  seemed  to  foretell 
his  return;  the  Queen  earnestly  entreated  it  of  the 
King,  but  she  met  with  an  insurmountable  and  un- 
foreseen obstacle.  The  King,  it  is  said,  had  imbibed 
the  strongest  prejudices  against  that  minister,  from 
secret  memoranda  penned  by  his  father,  and  which 
had  been  committed  to  the  care  of  the  Due  de  La 
Vauguyon,  with  an  injunction  to  place  them  in  his 
hands  as  soon  as  he  should  be  old  enough  to  study 
the  art  of  reigning.  It  was  by  these  memoranda 
that  the  esteem  which  he  had  conceived  for  the 
Marechal  du  Muy  was  inspired,  and  we  may  add 
that  Madame  Adelaide,  who  at  this  early  period 
powerfully  influenced  the  decisions  of  the  young  mon- 
arch, confirmed  the  impressions  they  had  made. 

The  Queen  conversed  with  M.  Campan  on  the  re- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  61 

gret  she  felt  at  having  been  unable  to  procure  the 
recall  of  M.  de  Choiseul,  and  disclosed  the  cause  of 
it  to  him.  The  Abbe  de  Vermond,  who,  down  to  the 
time  of  the  death  of  Louis  XV.,  had  been  on  terms 
of  the  strictest  friendship  with  M.  Campan,  called  upon 
him  on  the  second  day  after  the  arrival  of  the  Court 
at  Choisy,  and,  assuming  a  serious  air,  said,  "  Mon- 
sieur, the  Queen  was  indiscreet  enough  yesterday  to 
speak  to  you  of  a  minister  to  whom  she  must  of  course 
be  attached,  and  whom  his  friends  ardently  desire  to 
have  near  her;  you  are  aware  that  we  must  give  up 
all  expectation  of  seeing  the  Duke  at  Court;  you  know 
the  reasons  why;  but  you  do  not  know  that  the  young 
Queen,  having  mentioned  the  conversation  in  question 
to  me,  it  was  my  duty,  both  as  her  preceptor  and  her 
friend,  to  remonstrate  severely  with  her  on  her  indis- 
cretion in  communicating  to  you  those  particulars  of 
which  you  are  in  possession.  I  am  now  come  to  tell 
you  that  if  you  continue  to  avail  yourself  of  the  good 
nature  of  your  mistress  to  initiate  yourself  in  secrets 
of  State,  you  will  have  me  for  your  most  inveterate 
enemy.  The  Queen  should  find  here  no  other  con- 
fidant than  myself  respecting  things  that  ought  to  re- 
main secret."  M.  Campan  answered  that  he  did  not 
covet  the  important  and  dangerous  character  at  the 
new  Court  which  the  Abbe  wished  to  appropriate ;  and 
that  he  should  confine  himself  to  the  duties  of  his  of- 
fice, being  sufficiently  satisfied  with  the  continued 
kindness  with  which  the  Queen  honoured  him.  Not- 
withstanding this,  however,  he  informed'  the  Queen, 
on  the  very  same  evening,  of  the  injunction  he  had 
received.  She  owned  that  she  had  mentioned  their 
conversation  to  the  Abbe;  that  he  had  indeed  seriously 
scolded  her,  in  order  to  make  her  feel  the  necessity 
of  being  secret  in  concerns  of  State;  and  she  added, 
"  The  Abbe  cannot  like  you,  my  dear  Campan;  he  did 


62  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

not  expect  that  I  should,  on  my  arrival  in  France,  find 
in  my  household  a  man  who  would  suit  me  so  exactly 
as  you  have  done.  I  know  that  he  has  taken  umbrage 
at  it;  that  is  enough.  I  know,  too,  that  you  are  in- 
capable of  attempting  anything  to  injure  him  in  my 
esteem;  an  attempt  which  would  besides  be  vain,  for 
I  have  been  too  long  attached  to  him.  As  to  yourself, 
be  easy  on  the  score  of  the  Abbe's  hostility,  which 
shall  not  in  any  way  hurt  you." 

The  Abbe  de  Vermond  having  made  himself  mas- 
ter of  the  office  of  sole  confidant  to  the  Queen,  was 
nevertheless  agitated  whenever  he  saw  the  young 
King;  he  could  not  be  ignorant  that  the  Abbe  had 
been  promoted  by  the  Due  de  Choiseul,  and  was 
believed  to  favour  the  Encyclopedists,  against  whom 
Louis  XVI.  entertained  a  secret  prejudice,  although 
he  suffered  them  to  gain  so  great  an  ascendency 
during  his  reign.  The  Abbe  had,  moreover,  observed 
that  the  King  had  never,  while  Dauphin,  addressed 
a  single  word  to  him;  and  that  he  very  frequently 
only  answered  him  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 
He  therefore  determined  on  writing  to  Louis  XVI., 
and  intimating  that  he  owed  his  situation  at  Court 
solely  to  the  confidence  with  which  the  late  King 
had  honoured  him;  and  that  as  habits  contracted 
during  the  Queen's  education  placed  him  continually 
in  the  closest  intimacy  with  her,  he  could  not  enjoy 
the  honour  of  remaining  near  her  Majesty  without 
the  King's  consent.  Louis  XVI.  sent  back  his  letter, 
after  writing  upon  it  these  words :  "  I  approve  the 
Abbe  de  Vermond  continuing  in  his  office  about  the 
Queen." 


CHAPTER  V 

A  T  the  period  of  his  grandfather's  death,  Louis 
l\  XVI.  began  to  be  exceedingly  attached  to  the 
JL  JL  Queen.  The  first  period  of  so  deep  a  mourning 
not  admitting  of  indulgence  in  the  diversion  of  hunt- 
ing, he  proposed  to  her  walks  in  the  gardens  of  Choisy; 
they  went  out  like  husband  and  wife,  the  young  King 
giving  his  arm  to  the  Queen,  and  accompanied  by 
a  very  small  suite.  The  influence  of  this  example 
had  such  an  effect  upon  the  courtiers  that  the  next 
day  several  couples,  who  had  long,  and  for  good 
reasons,  been  disunited,  were  seen  walking  upon  the 
terrace  with  the  same  apparent  conjugal  intimacy. 
Thus  they  spent  whole  hours,  braving  the  intolerable 
wearisomeness  of  their  protracted  tete-a-tetes,  out  of 
mere  obsequious  imitation. 

The  devotion  of  Mesdames  to  the  King  their  father 
throughout  his  dreadful  malady  had  produced  that 
effect  upon  their  health  which  was  generally  appre- 
hended. On  the  fourth  day  after  their  arrival  at 
Choisy  they  were  attacked  by  pains  in  the  head  and 
chest,  which  left  no  doubt  as  to  the  danger  of  their 
situation.  It  became  necessary  instantly  to  send 
away  the  young  royal  family;  and  the  Chateau  de 
la  Muette,  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  was-  selected  for 
their  reception.  Their  arrival  at  that  residence,  which 
was  very  near  Paris,  drew  so  great  a  concourse  of 
people  into  its  neighbourhood,  that  even  at  daybreak 
the  crowd  had  begun  to  assemble  round  the  gates. 
Shouts  of  "  Vive  le  Roil "  were  scarcely  interrupted 
for  a  moment  between  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  and 

63 


64  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

sunset.  The  unpopularity  the  late  King  had  drawn 
upon  himself  during  his  latter  years,  and  the  hopes 
to  which  a  new  reign  gives  birth,  occasioned  these 
transports  of  joy. 

A  fashionable  jeweller  made  a  fortune  by  the  sale 
of  mourning  snuff-boxes,  whereon  the  portrait  of  the 
young  Queen,  in  a  black  frame  of  shagreen,  gave 
rise  to  the  pun:  "Consolation  in  chagrin."  All  the 
fashions,  and  every  article  of  dress,  received  names 
expressing  the  spirit  of  the  moment.  Symbols  of 
abundance  were  everywhere  represented,  and  the 
head-dresses  of  the  ladies  were  surrounded  by  ears  of 
wheat.  Poets  sang  of  the  new  monarch;  all  hearts, 
or  rather  all  heads,  in  France  were  filled  with  enthu- 
siasm. Never  did  the  commencement  of  any  reign 
excite  more  unanimous  testimonials  of  love  and  attach- 
ment. It  must  be  observed,  however,  that,  amidst 
all  this  intoxication,  the  anti-Austrian  party  never  lost 
sight  of  the  young  Queen,  but  kept  on  the  watch,  with 
the  malicious  desire  to  injure  her  through  such  errors 
as  might  arise  from  her  youth  and  inexperience. 

Their  Majesties  had  to  receive  at  La  Muette  the 
condolences  of  the  ladies  who  had  been  presented  at 
Court,  who  all  felt  themselves  called  on  to  pay  homage 
to  the  new  sovereigns.  Old  and  young  hastened  to 
present  themselves  on  the  day  of  general  reception; 
little  black  bonnets  with  great  wings,  shaking  heads, 
low  curtsies,  keeping  time  with  the  motions  of  the 
head,  made,  it  must  be  admitted,  a  few  venerable 
dowagers  appear  somewhat  ridiculous;  but  the  Queen, 
who  possessed  a  great  deal  of  dignity,  and  a  high  re- 
spect for  decorum,  was  not  guilty  of  the  grave  fault 
of  losing  the  state  she  was  bound  to  preserve.  An 
indiscreet  piece  of  drollery  of  one  of  the  ladies  of 
the  palace,  however,  procured  her  the  imputation  of 
doing  so.    The  Marquise  de  Clermont-Tonnerre,  whose 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  65 

office  required  that  she  should  continue  standing  be- 
hind the  Queen,  fatigued  by  the  length  of  the  cere- 
mony, seated  herself  on  the  floor,  concealed  behind  the 
fence  formed  by  the  hoops  of  the  Queen  and  the  ladies 
of  the  palace.  Thus  seated,  and  wishing  to  attract 
attention  and  to  appear  lively,  she  twitched  the  dresses 
of  those  ladies,  and  played  a  thousand  other  tricks. 
The  contrast  of  these  childish  pranks  with  the 
solemnity  which  reigned  over  the  rest  of  the  Queen's 
chamber  disconcerted  her  Majesty;  she  several  times 
placed  her  fan  before  her  face  to  hide  an  involuntary 
smile,  and  the  severe  old  ladies  pronounced  that  the 
young  Queen  had  derided  all  those  respectable  per- 
sons who  were  pressing  forward  to  pay  their  homage 
to  her;  that  she  liked  none  but  the  young;  that  she 
was  deficient  in  decorum;  and  that  not  one  of  them 
would  attend  her  Court  again.  The  epithet  moqucusc 
was  applied  to  her;  and  there  is  no  epithet  less  fa- 
vourably received  in  the  world. 

The  next  day  a  very  ill-natured  song  was  circu- 
lated; the  stamp  of  the  party  to  which  it  was  attribu- 
table might  easily  be  seen  upon  it.  I  remember  only 
the  following  chorus : 

"  Little  Queen,  you  must  not  be 

So  saucy,  with  your  twenty  years; 

Your  ill-used  courtiers  soon  will  see 

You  pass,  once  more,  the  barriers. 

Fal  lal  lal,  fal  lal  la." 

The  errors  of  the  great,  or  those  which  ill-nature 
chooses  to  impute  to  them,  circulate  in  the  world  with 
the  greatest  rapidity,  and  become  historical  traditions, 
which  every  one  delights  to  repeat.  More  than  fifteen 
years  after  this  occurrence  I  heard  some  old  ladies  in 
the  most  retired  part  of  Auvergne  relating  all  the  par- 
ticulars of  the  day  of  public  condolence  for  the  late 
King,  on  which,  as  they  said,  the  Queen  had  laughed 


66  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

in  the  faces  of  the  sexagenarian  duchesses  and  prin- 
cesses who  had  thought  it  their  duty  to  appear  on  the 
occasion. 

The  King  and  the  Princes,  his  brothers,  determined 
to  avail  themselves  of  the  advantages  held  out  by  inoc- 
ulation, as  a  safeguard  against  the  illness  under  which 
their  grandfather  had  just  fallen;  but  the  utility  of 
this  new  discovery  not  being  then  generally  acknowl- 
edged in  France,  many  persons  were  greatly  alarmed 
at  the  step;  those  who  blamed  it  openly  threw  all  the 
responsibility  of  it  upon  the  Queen,  who  alone,  they 
said,  could  have  ventured  to  give  such  rash  advice, 
inoculation  being  at  this  time  established  in  the  North- 
ern Courts.  The  operation  upon  the  King  and  his 
brothers,  performed  by  Doctor  Jauberthou,  was  fortu- 
nately quite  successful. 

When  the  convalescence  of  the  Princes  was  per- 
fectly established,  the  excursions  to  Marly  became 
cheerful  enough.  Parties  on  horseback  and  in  calashes 
were  formed  continually.  The  Queen  was  desirous  to 
afford  herself  one  very  innocent  gratification;  she  had 
never  seen  the  day  break;  and  having  now  no  other 
consent  than  that  of  the  King  to  seek,  she  intimated 
her  wish  to  him.  He  agreed  that  she  should  go,  at 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  to  the  eminences  of 
the  gardens  of  Marly;  and,  unfortunately,  little  dis- 
posed to  partake  in  her  amusements,  he  himself  went 
to  bed.  Foreseeing  some  inconveniences  possible  in 
this  nocturnal  party,  the  Queen  determined  on  having 
a  number  of  people  with  her;  and  even  ordered  her 
waiting  women  to  accompany  her.  All  precautions 
were  ineffectual  to  prevent  the  effects  of  calumny, 
which  thenceforward  sought  to  diminish  the  general 
attachment  that  she  had  inspired.  A  few  days  after- 
wards, the  most  wicked  libel  that  appeared  during 
the  earlier  years  of  her  reign  was  circulated  in  Paris. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  67 

The  blackest  colours  were  employed  to  paint  an  en- 
joyment so  harmless  that  there  is  scarcely  a  young- 
woman  living  in  the  country  who  has  not  endeav- 
oured to  procure  it  for  herself.  The  verses  which 
appeared  on  this  occasion  were  entitled  "  Sunrise." 

The  Due  d'Orleans,  then  Due  de  Chartres,  was 
among  those  who  accompanied  the  young  Queen  in 
her  nocturnal  ramble :  he  appeared  very  attentive  to 
her  at  this  epoch;  but  it  was  the  only  moment  of  his 
life  in  which  there  was  any  advance  towards  intimacy 
between  the  Queen  and  himself.  The  King  disliked 
the  character  of  the  Due  de  Chartres,  and  the  Queen 
always  excluded  him  from  her  private  society.  It  is 
therefore  without  the  slightest  foundation  that  some 
writers  have  attributed  to  feelings  of  jealousy  or 
wounded  self-love  the  hatred  which  he  displayed 
towards  the  Queen  during  the  latter  years  of  their 
existence. 

It  was  on  this  first  journey  to  Marly  that  Bcehmer, 
the  jeweller,  appeared  at  Court, — a  man  whose 
stupidity  and  avarice  afterwards  fatally  affected  the 
happiness  and  reputation  of  Marie  Antoinette.  This 
person  had,  at  great  expense,  collected  six  pear- 
formed  diamonds  of  a  prodigious  size;  they  were  per- 
fectly matched  and  of  the  finest  water.  The  earrings 
which  they  composed  had,  before  the  death  of  Louis 
XV.,  been  destined  for  the  Comtesse  du  Barry. 

Bcehmer,  by  the  recommendation  of  several  persons 
about  the  Court,  came  to  offer  these  jewels  to  the 
Queen.  He  asked  four  hundred  thousand  francs  for 
them.  The  young  Princess  could  not  withstand  her 
wish  to  purchase  them;  and  the  King  having  just 
raised  the  Queen's  income,  which,  under  the  former 
reign,  had  been  but  two  hundred  thousand  livres,  to 
one  hundred  thousand  crowns  a  year,  she  wished  to 
make  the  purchase  out  of  her  own  purse,  and  not 

Vol.  3  Memoirs*— 3 


68  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

burthen  the  royal  treasury  with  the  payment.  SHe 
proposed  to  Bcehmer  to  take  off  the  two  buttons 
which  formed  the  tops  of  the  clusters,  as  they  could 
be  replaced  by  two  of  her  own  diamonds.  He  con- 
sented, and  then  reduced  the  price  of  the  earrings  to 
three  hundred  and  sixty  thousand  francs;  the  pay- 
ment for  which  was  to  be  made  by  instalments,  and 
was  discharged  in  the  course  of  four  or  five  years  by 
the  Queen's  first  femme  de  chambre,  deputed  to  man- 
age the  funds  of  her  privy  purse.  I  have  omitted  no 
details  as  to  the  manner  in  which  the  Queen  first 
became  possessed  of  these  jewels,  deeming  them  very 
needful  to  place  in  its  true  light  the  too  famous  cir- 
cumstance of  the  necklace,  which  happened  near  the 
end  of  her  reign. 

It  was  also  on  this  first  journey  to  Marly  that  the 
Duchesse  de  Chartres,  afterwards  Duchesse  d'Orleans, 
introduced  into  the  Queen's  household  Mademoiselle 
Bertin,  a  milliner  who  became  celebrated  at  that  time 
for  the  total  change  she  effected  in  the  dress  of  the 
French  ladies. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  mere  admission  of  a  mil- 
liner into  the  house  of  the  Queen  was  followed  by  evil 
consequences  to  her  Majesty.  The  skill  of  the  mil- 
liner, who  was  received  into  the  household,  in  spite  of 
the  custom  which  kept  persons  of  her  description  out 
of  it,  afforded  her  the  opportunity  of  introducing 
some  new  fashion  every  day.  Up  to  this  time  the 
Queen  had  shown  very  plain  taste  in  dress;  she  now 
began  to  make  it  a  principal  occupation;  and  she  was 
of  course  imitated  by  other  women. 

All  wished  instantly  to  have  the  same  dress  as  the 
Queen,  and  to  wear  the  feathers  and  flowers  to  which 
her  beauty,  then  in  its  brilliancy,  lent  an  indescrib- 
able charm.  The  expenditure  of  the  younger  ladies 
was  necessarily  much  increased;  mothers  and  husbands 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  69 

murmured  at  it;  some  few  giddy  women  contracted 
debts;  unpleasant  domestic  scenes  occurred;  in  many 
families  coldness  or  quarrels  arose;  and  the  general 
report  was, — that  the  Queen  would  be  the  ruin  of  all 
the  French  ladies. 

Fashion  continued  its  fluctuating  progress;  and 
head-dresses,  with  their  superstructures  of  gauze, 
flowers,  and  feathers,  became  so  lofty  that  the  women 
could  not  find  carriages  high  enough  to  admit  them; 
and  they  were  often  seen  either  stooping,  or  holding 
their  heads  out  of  the  windows.  Others  knelt  down 
in  order  to  manage  these  elevated  objects  of  ridicule 
with  less  danger.  Innumerable  caricatures,  exhibited 
in  all  directions,  and  some  of  which  artfully  gave  the 
features  of  the  Queen,  attacked  the  extravagance  of 
fashion,  but  with  very  little  effect.  It  changed  only, 
as  is  always  the  case,  through  the  influence  of  incon- 
stancy and  time. 

The  Queen's  toilet  was  a  masterpiece  of  etiquette; 
everything  was  done  in  a  prescribed  form.  Both  the 
dame  d'honneur  and  the  dame  d'atours  usually  at- 
tended and  officiated,  assisted  by  the  first  femme  de 
chambre  and  two  ordinary  women.  The  dame  d'atours 
put  on  the  petticoat,  and  handed  the  gown  to  the 
Queen.  The  dame  d'honneur  poured  out  the  water 
for  her  hands  and  put  on  her  linen.  When  a  prin- 
cess of  the  royal  family  happened  to  be  present  while 
the  Queen  was  dressing,  the  dame  d'honneur  yielded 
to  her  the  latter  act  of  office,  but  still  did  not  yield  it 
directly  to  the  Princesses  of  the  blood;  in  such  a  case 
the  dame  d'honneur  was  accustomed  to  present  the 
linen  to  the  first  femme  de  chambre,  who,  in  her  turn, 
handed  it  to  the  Princess  of  the  blood.  Each  of  these 
ladies  observed  these  rules  scrupulously  as  affecting 
her  rights.  One  winter's  day  it  happened  that  the 
,Queen,  who  was  entirely  undressed,  was  just  going  to 


70  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

put  on  her  shift;  I  held  it  ready  unfolded  for  her* 
the  dame  d'honneur  came  in,  slipped  off  her  gloves, 
and  took  it.  A  scratching  was  heard  at  the  door;  it 
was  opened,  and  in  came  the  Duchesse  d'Orleans :  her 
gloves  were  taken  off,  and  she  came  forward  to  take 
the  garment;  but  as  it  would  have  been  wrong  in  the 
dame  d'honneur  to  hand  it  to  her  she  gave  it  to  me, 
and  I  handed  it  to  the  Princess.  More  scratching: 
it  was  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Provence;  the  Du- 
chesse d'Orleans  handed  her  the  linen.  All  this  while 
the  Queen  kept  her  arms  crossed  upon  her  bosom, 
and  appeared  to  feel  cold;  Madame  observed  her  un- 
comfortable situation,  and,  merely  laying  down  her 
handkerchief  without  taking  off  her  gloves,  she  put  on 
the  linen,  and  in  doing  so  knocked  the  Queen's  cap 
off.  The  Queen  laughed  to  conceal  her  impatience, 
but  not  until  she  had  muttered  several  times,  "  How 
disagreeable  !  how  tiresome !  " 

All  this  etiquette,  however  inconvenient,  was  suit- 
able to  the  royal  dignity,  which  expects  to  find  serv- 
ants in  all  classes  of  persons,  beginning  even  with  the 
brothers  and  sisters  of  the  monarch. 

Speaking  here  of  etiquette,  I  do  not  allude  to  ma- 
jestic state,  appointed  for  days  of  ceremony  in  all 
Courts.  I  mean  those  minute  ceremonies  that  were 
pursued  towards  our  Kings  in  their  inmost  privacies, 
in  their  hours  of  pleasure,  in  those  of  pain,  and  even 
during  the  most  revolting  of  human  infirmities. 

These  servile  rules  were  drawn  up  into  a  kind  of 
code;  they  offered  to  a  Richelieu,  a  La  Rochefoucauld 
and  a  Duras,  in  the  exercise  of  their  domestic  func- 
tions, opportunities  of  intimacy  useful  to  their  inter- 
ests; and  their  vanity  was  flattered  by  customs  which 
converted  the  right  to  give  a  glass  of  water,  to  put 
on  a  dress,  and  to  remove  a  basin,  into  honourable 
prerogatives. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  71 

Princes  thus  accustomed  to  be  treated  as  divinities 
naturally  ended  by  believing  that  they  were  of  a  dis- 
tinct nature,  of  a  purer  essence  than  the  rest  of 
mankind. 

This  sort  of  etiquette,  which  led  our  Princes  to  be 
treated  in  private  as  idols,  made  them  in  public 
martyrs  to  decorum.  Marie  Antoinette  found  in  the 
Chateau  of  Versailles  a  multitude  of  established  cus- 
toms which  appeared  to  her  insupportable. 

The  ladies-in-waiting,  who  were  all  obliged  to  be 
sworn,  and  to  wear  full  Court  dresses,  were  alone 
entitled  to  remain  in  the  room,  and  to  attend  in  con- 
junction with  the  dame  d'honneur  and  the  tirewoman. 
The  Queen  abolished  all  this  formality.  When  her 
head  was  dressed,  she  curtsied  to  all  the  ladies  who 
were  in  her  chamber,  and,  followed  only  by  her  own 
women,  went  into  her  closet,  where  Mademoiselle 
Bertin,  who  could  not  be  admitted  into  the  chamber, 
used  to  await  her.  It  was  in  this  inner  closet  that 
she  produced  her  new  and  numerous  dresses.  The 
Queen  was  also  desirous  of  being  served  by  the  most 
fashionable  hairdresser  in  Paris.  Now  the  custom 
which  forbade  all  persons  in  inferior  offices,  employed 
by  royalty,  to  exert  their  talents  for  the  public,  was  no 
doubt  intended  to  cut  off  all  communication  between 
the  privacy  of  princes  and  society  at  large;  the  lat- 
ter being  always  extremely  curious  respecting  the 
most  trifling  particulars  relative  to  the  private  life  of 
the  former.  The  Queen,  fearing  that  the  taste  of  the 
hairdresser  would  suffer  if  he  should  discontinue  the 
general  practice  of  his  art,  ordered  him  to  attend  as 
usual  certain  ladies  of  the  Court  and  of  Paris;  and 
this  multiplied  the  opportunities  of  learning  details 
respecting  the  household,  and  very  often  of  misrepre- 
senting them. 

One  of  the  customs  most  disagreeable  to  the  Queen 


12  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

was  that  of  dining  every  day  in  public.  Maria  Le- 
czinska  had  always  submitted  to  this  wearisome  prac- 
tice :  Marie  Antoinette  followed  it  as  long  as  she  was 
Dauphiness.  The  Dauphin  dined  with  her,  and  each 
branch  of  the  family  had  its  public  dinner  daily.  The 
ushers  suffered  all  decently  dressed  people  to  enter; 
the  sight  was  the  delight  of  persons  from  the  country. 
At  the  dinner-hour  there  were  none  to  be  met  upon 
the  stairs  but  honest  folks,  who,  after  having  seen  the 
Dauphiness  take  her  soup,  went  to  see  the  Princes 
eat  their  bouilli,  and  then  ran  themselves  out  of  breath 
to  behold  Mesdames  at  their  dessert. 

Very  ancient  usage,  too,  required  that  the  Queens 
of  France  should  appear  in  public  surrounded  only 
by  women;  even  at  meal-times  no  persons  of  the  other 
sex  attended  to  serve  at  table;  and  although  the  King 
ate  publicly  with  the  Queen,  yet  he  himself  was  served 
by  women  with  everything  which  was  presented  to 
him  directly  at  table.  The  dame  d'honneur,  kneeling, 
for  her  own  accommodation,  upon  a  low  stool,  with 
a  napkin  upon  her  arm,  and  four  women  in  full  dress, 
presented  the  plates  to  the  King  and  Queen.  The 
dame  d'honneur  handed  them  drink.  This  service  had 
formerly  been  the  right  of  the  maids  of  honour.  The 
Queen,  upon  her  accession  to  the  throne,  abolished  the 
usage  altogether.  She  also  freed  herself  from  the 
necessity  of  being  followed  in  the  Palace  of  Versailles 
by  two  of  her  women  in  Court  dresses,  during  those 
hours  of  the  day  when  the  ladies-in-waiting  were  not 
with  her.  From  that  time  she  was  accompanied  only 
by  a  single  valet  de  chambre  and  two  footmen.  All 
the  changes  made  by  Marie  Antoinette  were  of  the 
same  description;  a  disposition  gradually  to  substitute 
the  simple  customs  of  Vienna  for  those  of  Versailles 
was  more  injurious  to  her  than  she  could  possibly  have 
imagined. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  73 

When  the  King  slept  in  the  Queen's  apartment  he 
always  rose  before  her;  the  exact  hour  was  commu- 
nicated to  the  head  femme  de  chambre,  who  entered, 
preceded  by  a  servant  of  the  bedchamber  bearing  a 
taper;   she  crossed  the   room  and  unbolted  the  door 
which  separated  the  Queen's  apartment  from  that  of 
the  King.     She  there  found  the  first  valet  de  chambre 
for  the  quarter,  and  a  servant  of  the  chamber.     They 
entered,  opened  the  bed  curtains  on  the  King's  side, 
and  presented  him  slippers  generally,  as  well  as  the 
dressing-gown,   which   he   put  on,   of   gold  or   silver 
stuff.     The  first  valet  de  chambre  took  down  a  short 
sword  which  was  always  laid  within  the  railing  on 
the    King's    side.      When   the    King    slept    with   the 
Queen,  this  sword   was   brought  upon  the   armchair 
appropriated  to  the  King,  and  which  was  placed  near 
the  Queen's  bed,   within  the  gilt   railing  which  sur- 
rounded the  bed.     The  first  femme  de  chambre  con- 
ducted the  King  to  the  door,  bolted  it  again,   and, 
leaving  the  Queen's  chamber,  did  not  return  until  the 
hour  appointed  by  her  Majesty  the  evening  before. 
At  night  the  Queen  went  to  bed  before  the  King;  the 
first  femme  de  chambre  remained  seated  at  the  foot  of 
her  bed  until  the  arrival  of  his  Majesty,  in  order,  as  in 
the  morning,  to   see  the   King's   attendants   out   and 
bolt  the  door  after  them.     The  Queen  awoke  habitu- 
ally  at  eight   o'clock,   and  breakfasted   at   nine,    fre- 
quently in  bed,  and   sometimes  after  she  had   risen, 
at  a  table  placed  opposite  her  couch. 

In  order  to  describe  the  Queen's  private  service 
intelligibly,  it  must  be  recollected  that  service  of  every 
kind  was  honour,  and  had  not  any  other  denomination. 
To  do  the  honours  of  the  service  was  to  present  the 
service  to  a  person  of  superior  rank,  who  happened  to 
arrive  at  the  moment  it  was  about  to  be  performed, 
Thus,  supposing  the  Queen  asked  for  a  glass  of  water, 


74  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  servant  of  the  chamber  handed  to  the  first  woman 
a  silver  gilt  waiter,  upon  which  were  placed  a  covered 
goblet  and  a  small  decanter;  but  should  the  lady 
of  honour  come  in,  the  first  woman  was  obliged  to 
present  the  waiter  to  her,  and  if  Madame  or  the  Com- 
tesse  de'Artois  came  in  at  the  moment,  the  waiter  went 
again  from  the  lady  of  honour  into  the  hands  of  the 
Princess  before  it  reached  the  Queen.  It  must  be 
observed,  however,  that  if  a  princess  of  the  blood 
instead  of  a  princess  of  the  family  entered,  the  serv- 
ice went  directly  from  the  first  woman  to  the  prin- 
cess of  the  blood,  the  lady  of  honour  being  excused 
from  transferring  to  any  but  princesses  of  the  royal 
family.  Nothing  was  presented  directly  to  the  Queen; 
her  handkerchief  or  her  gloves  were  placed  upon  a 
long  salver  of  gold  or  silver  gilt,  which  was  placed  as 
a  piece  of  furniture  of  ceremony  upon  a  side-table,  and 
was  called  a  gantiere.  The  first  woman  presented  to 
her  in  this  manner  all  that  she  asked  for,  unless  the 
tirewoman,  the  lady  of  honour,  or  a  princess  were 
present,  and  then  the  gradation  pointed  out  in  the 
instance  of  the  glass  of  water  was  always  observed. 

Whether  the  Queen  breakfasted  in  bed  or  up,  those 
entitled  to  the  petites  entrees  were  equally  admitted; 
this  privilege  belonged  of  right  to  her  chief  physician, 
chief  surgeon,  physician  in  ordinary,  reader,  closet 
secretary,  the  King's  four  first  valets  de  chambre  and 
their  reversioners,  and  the  King's  chief  physicians  and 
surgeons.  There  were  frequently  from  ten  to  twelve 
persons  at  this  first  entree.  The  lady  of  honour  or  the 
superintendent,  if  present,  placed  the  breakfast  equi- 
page upon  the  bed;  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe  fre- 
quently performed  that  office. 

As  soon  as  the  Queen  rose,  the  wardrobe  woman 
was  admitted  to  take  away  the  pillows  and  prepare 
the  bed  to  be  made  by  some  of  the  valets  de  chambre. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  75 

She  undrew  the  curtains,  and  the  bed  was  not  gener- 
ally made  until  the  Queen  was  gone  to  mass.  Gener- 
ally, excepting  at  St.  Cloud,  where  the  Queen  bathed 
in  an  apartment  below  her  own,  a  slipper  bath  was 
rolled  into  her  room,  and  her  bathers  brought  every- 
thing that  was  necessary  for  the  bath.  The  Queen 
bathed  in  a  large  gown  of  English  flannel  buttoned 
down  to  the  bottom;  its  sleeves  throughout,  as  well 
as  the  collar,  were  lined  with  linen.  When  she  came 
out  of  the  bath  the  first  woman  held  up  a  cloth  to 
conceal  her  entirely  from  the  sight  of  her  women,  and 
then  threw  it  over  her  shoulders.  The  bathers  wrapped 
her  in  it  and  dried  her  completely.  She  then  put  on  a 
long  and  wide  open  chemise,  entirely  trimmed  with 
lace,  and  afterwards  a  white  taffety  bed-gown.  The 
wardrobe  woman  warmed  the  bed;  the  slippers  were 
of  dimity,  trimmed  with  lace.  Thus  dressed,  the 
Queen  went  to  bed  again,  and  the  bathers  and  serv- 
ants of  the  chamber  took  away  the  bathing  apparatus. 
The  Queen,  replaced  in  bed,  took  a  book  or  her  tap- 
estry work.  On  her  bathing  mornings  she  breakfasted 
in  the  bath.  The  tray  was  placed  on  the  cover  of  the 
bath.  These  minute  details  are  given  here  only  to 
do  justice  to  the  Queen's  scrupulous  modesty.  Her 
temperance  was  equally  remarkable;  she  breakfasted 
on  coffee  or  chocolate ;  at  dinner  ate  nothing  but  white 
meat,  drank  water  only,  and  supped  on  broth,  a  wing 
of  a  fowl,  and  small  biscuits,  which  she  soaked  in  a 
glass  of  water. 

The  tirewoman  had  under  her  order  a  principal 
under-tirewoman,  charged  with  the  care  and  preserva- 
tion of  all  the  Queen's  dresses;  two  women  to  fold 
and  press  such  articles  as  required  it;  two  valets,  and 
a  porter  of  the  wardrobe.  The  latter  brought  every 
morning  into  the  Queen's  apartments  baskets  covered 
with  taffety,  containing  all  that  she  was  to  wear  dur- 


76  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

ing  the  day,  and  large  cloths  of  green  taffety  covering 
the  robes  and  the  full  dresses.    The  valet  of  the  ward- 
robe on  duty  presented  every  morning  a  large  book  to 
the  first  femme  de  chambre,  containing  patterns  of  the 
gowns,    full   dresses,   undresses,   etc.      Every   pattern 
was  marked,  to  show  to  which  sort  it  belonged.    The 
first  femme  de  chambre  presented   this  book   to  the 
Queen  on  her  awaking,  with  a  pincushion;  her  Maj- 
esty stuck  pins  in  those  articles  which  she  chose  for 
the  day, — one  for   the   dress,   one   for  the  afternoon 
undress,  and  one  for  the  full  evening  dress  for  card  or 
supper  parties  in  the  private  apartments.     The  book 
was  then  taken  back  to  the  wardrobe,  and  all  that 
was  wanted  for  the  day  was  soon  after  brought  in  in 
large  taffety  wrappers.     The  wardrobe  woman,  who 
had  the  care  of  the  linen,  in  her  turn  brought  in  a 
covered  basket  containing  two  or  three  chemises  and 
handkerchiefs.     The  morning  basket  was  called  pret 
du  jour.     In  the  evening  she  brought  in  one  contain- 
ing the  nightgown   and   nightcap,   and  the   stockings 
for  the  next  morning;  this  basket  was  called  pret  de 
la  nuit.     They  were  in  the  department  of  the  lady  of 
honour,  the  tirewoman  having  nothing  to  do  with  the 
linen.     Nothing  was  put  in  order  or  taken  care  of  by 
the  Queen's  women.     As  soon  as  the  toilet  was  over, 
the  valets  and  porter  belonging  to  the  wardrobe  were 
called  in,  and  they  carried  all  away  in  a  heap,  in  the 
taffety  wrappers,  to  the  tirewoman's  wardrobe,  where 
all  were   folded  up  again,  hung  up,  examined,   and 
cleaned  with  so  much  regularity  and  care  that  even 
the  cast-off  clothes  scarcely  looked  as  if  they  had  been 
worn.     The  tirewoman's  wardrobe  consisted  of  three 
large  rooms  surrounded  with  closets,  some  furnished 
with  drawers  and  others  with  shelves;  there  were  also 
large   tables   in  each  of   these   rooms,   on  which   the 
gowns  and  dresses  were  spread  out  and  folded  up. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  77 

For  the  winter  the  Queen  had  generally  twelve  full 
dresses,  twelve  undresses  called  fancy  dresses,  and 
twelve  rich  hoop  petticoats  for  the  card  and  supper 
parties  in  the  smaller  apartments. 

She  had  as  many  for  the  summer;  those  for  the 
spring  served  likewise  for  the  autumn.  All  these 
dresses  were  discarded  at  the  end  of  each  season, 
unless,  indeed,  she  retained  some  that  she  particularly 
liked.  I  am  not  speaking  of  muslin  or  cambric  gowns, 
or  others  of  the  same  kind — they  were  lately  intro- 
duced; but  such  as  these  were  not  renewed  at  each 
returning  season,  they  were  kept  several  years.  The 
chief  women  were  charged  with  the  care  and  exami- 
nation of  the  diamonds;  this  important  duty  was 
formerly  confided  to  the  tirewoman,  but  for  many 
years  had  been  included  in  the  business  of  the  first 
femmes  de  chanibre. 

The  public  toilet  took  place  at  noon.  The  toilet- 
table  was  drawn  forward  into  the  middle  of  the  room. 
This  piece  of  furniture  was  generally  the  richest  and 
most  ornamented  of  all  in  the  apartment  of  the 
Princesses.  The  Queen  used  it  in  the  same  manner 
and  place  for  undressing  herself  in  the  evening.  She 
went  to  bed  in  corsets  trimmed  with  ribbon,  and 
sleeves  trimmed  with  lace,  and  wore  a  large  neck 
handkerchief.  The  Queen's  combing  cloth  was  pre- 
sented by  her  first  woman  if  she  was  alone  at  the 
commencement  of  the  toilet;  or,  as  well  as  the  other 
articles,  by  the  ladies  of  honour  if  they  were  come. 
At  noon  the  women  who  had  been  in  attendance  four 
and  twenty  hours  were  relieved  by  two  women  in  full 
dress;  the  first  woman  went  also  to  dress  herself.  The 
grandes  entrees  were  admitted  during  the  toilet;  sofas 
were  placed  in  circles  for  the  superintendent,  the  ladies 
of  honour,  and  tirewomen,  and  the  governess  of  the 
children  of  France  when  she  came  there;  the  duties  of 


/S  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  ladies  of  the  bedchamber,  having  nothing  to  do 
with  any  kind  of  domestic  or  private  functions,  did  not 
begin  until  the  hour  of  going  out  to  mass;  they  waited 
in  the  great  closet,  and  entered  when  the  toilet  was 
over.  The  Princes  of  the  blood,  captains  of  the 
Guards,  and  all  great  officers  having  the  entry  paid 
their  court  at  the  hour  of  the  toilet.  The  Queen 
saluted  by  nodding  her  head  or  bending  her  body,  or 
leaning  upon  her  toilet-table  as  if  moving  to  rise;  the 
last  mode  of  salutation  was  for  the  Princes  of  the 
blood.  The  King's  brothers  also  came  very  generally 
to  pay  their  respects  to  her  Majesty  while  her  hair  was 
being  dressed.  In  the  earlier  years  of  the  reign  the 
first  part  of  the  dressing  was  performed  in  the  bed- 
chamber and  according  to  the  laws  of  etiquette;  that 
is  to  say,  the  lady  of  honour  put  on  the  chemise  and 
poured  out  the  water  for  the  hands,  the  tirewoman 
put  on  the  skirt  of  the  gown  or  full  dress,  adjusted  the 
handkerchief,  and  tied  on  the  necklace.  But  when 
the  young  Queen  became  more  seriously  devoted  to 
fashion,  and  the  head-dress  attained  so  extravagant  a 
height  that  it  became  necessary  to  put  on  the  chemise 
from  below, — when,  in  short,  she  determined  to  have 
her  milliner,  Mademoiselle  Bertin,  with  her  whilst  she 
was  dressing,  whom  the  ladies  would  have  refused  to 
admit  to  any  share  in  the  honour  of  attending  on  the 
Queen,  the  dressing  in  the  bedchamber  was  discon- 
tinued, and  the  Queen,  leaving  her  toilet,  withdrew 
into  her  closet  to  dress. 

On  returning  into  her  chamber,  the  Queen,  standing 
about  the  middle  of  it,  surrounded  by  the  superin- 
tendent, the  ladies  of  honour  and  tirewomen,  her 
ladies  of  the  palace,  the  chevalier  d'honncur,  the  chief 
equerry,  her  clergy  ready  to  attend  her  to  mass,  and 
the  Princesses  of  the  royal  family  who  happened  to 
come,  accompanied  by  all  their  chief  attendants  and 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  79 

ladies,  passed  in  order  into  the  gallery  as  in  going  to 
mass.     The  Queen's  signatures  were  generally  given 
at  the  moment  of  entry  into  the  chamber.     The  sec- 
retary  for   orders  presented  the  pen.      Presentations 
of  colonels  on  taking  leave  were-  usually  made  at  this 
time.     Those  of  ladies,  and  such  as  had  a  right  to  the 
tabouret,  or  sitting  in  the  royal  presence,  were  made 
on   Sunday   evenings   before   card-playing  began,   on 
their  coming  in  from  paying  their  respects.     Ambas- 
sadors  were    introduced    to    the    Queen   on    Tuesday 
mornings,  accompanied  by  the  introducer  of  ambas- 
sadors on  duty,  and  by  M.  de  Sequeville,  the  secretary 
for    the    ambassadors.      The    introducer    in    waiting 
usually  came  to  the   Queen  at   her  toilet   to  apprise 
her  of  the  presentations  of  foreigners  which  would  be 
made.     The  usher  of  the  chamber,  stationed  at  the 
entrance,   opened  the   folding  doors  to  none  but  the 
Princes    and    Princesses    of    the    royal    family,    and 
announced  them  aloud.     Quitting  his  post,   he  came 
forward  to  name  to  the  lady  of  honour  the  persons 
who    came    to    be   presented,    or   who    came   to    take 
leave;  that  lady  again  named  them  to  the  Queen  at 
the  moment  they   saluted   her;    if   she   and   the  tire- 
woman were  absent,  the  first  woman  took  the  place 
and  did  that  duty.     The  ladies  of  the  bedchamber, 
chosen  solely  as  companions  for  the  Queen,  had  no 
domestic  duties  to  fulfil,  however  opinion  might  dig- 
nify  such   offices.      The    King's   letter   in   appointing 
them,  among  other  instructions  of  etiquette,  ran  thus : 
"  Having  chosen  you  to  bear  the  Queen  company." 
There  were  hardly  any  emoluments  accruing  from  this 
place. 

The  Queen  heard  mass  with  the  King  in  the  trib- 
une, facing  the  grand  altar  and  the  choir,  with  the 
exception  of  the  days  of  high  ceremony,  when  their 
chairs  were  placed  below  upon  velvet  carpets  fringed 


80  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

with  gold.  These  days  were  marked  by  the  name  of 
grand  chapel  days. 

The  Queen  named  the  collector  beforehand,  and 
informed  her  of  it  through  her  lady  of  honour,  who 
was  besides  desired  to  send  the  purse  to  her.  The 
collectors  were  almost  always  chosen  from  among 
those  who  had  been  recently  presented.  After  return- 
ing from  mass  the  Queen  dined  every  Sunday  with 
the  King  only,  in  public  in  the  cabinet  of  the  nobility, 
a  room  leading  to  her  chamber.  Titled  ladies  having 
the  honours  sat  during  the  dinner  upon  folding-chairs 
placed  on  each  side  of  the  table.  Ladies  without  titles 
stood  round  the  table;  the  captain  of  the  Guards  and 
the  first  gentlemen  of  the  chamber  were  behind  the 
King's  chair;  behind  that  of  the  Queen  were  her  first 
maitre  d'hotel,  her  chevalier  d'honneur,  and  the  chief 
equerry.  The  Queen's  maitre  d'hotel  was  furnished 
with  a  large  staff,  six  or  seven  feet  in  length,  orna- 
mented with  golden  fleurs-de-lis,  and  surmounted  by 
fleurs-de-lis  in  the  form  of  a  crown.  He  entered  the 
room  with  this  badge  of  his  orifice  to  announce  that 
the  Queen  was  served.  The  comptroller  put  into  his 
hands  the  card  of  the  dinner;  in  the  absence  of  the 
maitre  d'hotel  he  presented  it  to  the  Queen  himself, 
otherwise  he  only  did  him  the  honours  of  the  service. 
The  maitre  d'hotel  did  not  leave  his  place,  he  merely 
gave  the  orders  for  serving  up  and  removing;  the 
comptroller  and  gentlemen  serving  placed  the  vari- 
ous dishes  upon  the  table,  receiving  them  from  the 
inferior  servants. 

The  Prince  nearest  to  the  crown  presented  water 
to  wash  the  King's  hands  at  the  moment  he  placed 
himself  at  table,  and  a  princess  did  the  same  service 
to  the  Queen. 

The  table  service  was  formerly  performed  for  the 
Queen  by  the  lady  of  honour  and  four  women  in  full 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  81 

dress;  this  part  of  the  women's  service  was  trans- 
ferred to  them  on  the  suppression  of  the  office  of 
maids  of  honour.  The  Queen  put  an  end  to  this 
etiquette  in  the  first  year  of  her  reign.  When  the 
dinner  was  over  the  Queen  returned  without  the  King 
to  her  apartment  with  her  women,  and  took  off  her 
hoop  and  train. 

This  unfortunate  Princess,  against  whom  the  opin- 
ions of  the  French  people  were  at  length  so  much 
excited,  possessed  qualities  which  deserved  to  obtain 
the  greatest  popularity.  None  could  doubt  this  who, 
like  myself,  had  heard  her  with  delight  describe  the 
partriarchal  manners  of  the  House  of  Lorraine.  She 
was  accustomed  to  say  that,  by  transplanting  their 
manners  into  Austria,  the  Princes  of  that  house  had 
laid  the  foundation  of  the  unassailable  popularity  en- 
joyed by  the  imperial  family.  She  frequently  related 
to  me  the  interesting  manner  in  which  the  Dues  de 
Lorraine  levied  the  taxes.  "  The  sovereign  Prince," 
said  she,  "went  to  church;  after  the  sermon  he  rose, 
waved  his  hat  in  the  air,  to  show  that  he  was  about 
to  speak,  and  then  mentioned  the  sum  whereof  he 
stood  in  need.  Such  was  the  zeal  of  the  good  Lor- 
rainers  that  men  have  been  known  to  take  away  linen 
or  household  utensils  without  the  knowledge  of  their 
wives,  and  sell  them  to  add  the  value  to  their  contri- 
bution. It  sometimes  happened,  too,  that  the  Prince 
received  more  money  than  he  had  asked  for,  in  which 
case  he  restored  the  surplus." 

All  who  were  acquainted  with  the  Queen's  private 
qualities  knew  that  she  equally  deserved  attachment 
and  esteem.  Kind  and  patient  to  excess  in  her  rela- 
tions with  her  household,  she  indulgently  considered 
all  around  her,  and  interested  herself  in  their  fortunes 
and  in  their  pleasures.  She  had,  among  her  women, 
young  girls   from  the   Maison  de   St.   Cyr,   all  well 


82  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

born;  the  Queen  forbade  them  the  play  when  the 
performances  were  not  suitable;  sometimes,  when  old 
plays  were  to  be  represented,  if  she  found  she  could 
not  with  certainty  trust  to  her  memory,  she  would 
take  the  trouble  to  read  them  in  the  morning,  to 
enable  her  to  decide  whether  the  girls  should  or  should 
not  go  to  see  them, — rightly  considering  herself 
bound  to  watch  over  their  morals  and  conduct. 


CHAPTER  VI 

DURING  the  first  few  months  of  his  reign  Louis 
XVI.  dwelt  at  La  Muette,  Marly,  and  Com- 
piegne.  When  settled  at  Versailles  he  occu- 
pied himself  with  a  general  examination  of  his 
grandfather's  papers.  He  had  promised  the  Queen  to 
communicate  to  her  all  that  he  might  discover  relative 
to  the  history  of  the  man  with  the  iron  mask,  who,  he 
thought,  had  become  so  inexhaustible  a  source  of  con- 
jecture only  in  consequence  of  the  interest  which  the 
pen  of  a  celebrated  writer  had  excited  respecting  the 
detention  of  a  prisoner  of  State.,  who  was  merely  a 
man  of  whimsical  tastes  and  habits. 

I  was  with  the  Queen  when  the  King,  having 
finished  his  researches,  informed  her  that  he  had 
not  found  anything  among  the  secret  papers  eluci- 
dating the  existence  of  this  prisoner;  that  he  had 
conversed  on  the  matter  with  M.  de  Maurepas,  whose 
age  made  him  contemporary  with  the  epoch  during 
which  the  story  must  have  been  known  to  the  minis- 
ters; and  that  M.  de  Maurepas  had  assured  him  he 
was  merely  a  prisoner  of  a  very  dangerous  character, 
in  consequence  of  his  disposition  for  intrigue.  He 
was  a  subject  of  the  Duke  of  Mantua,  and  was  enticed 
to  the  frontier,  arrested  there,  and  kept  prisoner,  first 
at  Pignerol,  and  afterwards  in  the  Bastille.  This 
transfer  took  place  in  consequence  of  the  appoint- 
ment of  the  governor  of  the  former  place  to  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  latter.  It  was  for  fear  the  prisoner 
should  profit  by  the  inexperience  of  a  new  governor 

83 


84  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

that  he  was  sent  with  the  Governor  of  Pignerol  to 
the  Bastille. 

Such  was,  in  fact,  the  truth  about  the  man  on  whom 
people  have  been  pleased  to  fix  an  iron  mask.  And 
thus    was    it    related    in    writing,    and    published    by 

M. twenty   years   ago.      He   had   searched  the 

archives  of  the  Foreign  Office,  and  laid  the  real  story 
before  the  public;  but  the  public,  prepossessed  in  fa- 
'  vour  of  a  marvellous  version,  would  not  acknowledge 
the  authenticity  of  his  account.  Every  man  relied 
upon  the  authority  of  Voltaire;  and  it  was  believed 
that  a  natural  or  a  twin  brother  of  Louis  XIV.  lived 
many  years  in  prison  with  a  mask  over  his  face.  The 
story  of  this  mask,  perhaps,  had  its  origin  in  the  old 
custom,  among  both  men  and  women  in  Italy,  of  wear- 
ing a  velvet  mask  when  they  exposed  themselves  to 
the  sun.  It  is  possible  that  the  Italian  captive  may 
have  sometimes  shown  himself  upon  the  terrace  of  his 
prison  with  his  face  thus  covered.  As  to  the  silver 
plate  which  this  celebrated  prisoner  is  said  to  have 
thrown  from  his  window,  it  is  known  that  such  a  cir- 
cumstance did  happen,  but  it  happened  at  Valzin,  in 
the  time  of  Cardinal  Richelieu.  This  anecdote  has 
been  mixed  up  with  the  inventions  respecting  the 
Piedmontese  prisoner. 

In  this  survey  of  the  papers  of  Louis  XV.  by  his 
grandson  some  very  curious  particulars  relative  to  his 
private  treasury  were  found.  Shares  in  various  finan- 
cial companies  afforded  him  a  revenue,  and  had  in 
course  of  time  produced  him  a  capital  of  some  amount, 
which  he  applied  to  his  secret  expenses.  The  King 
collected  his  vouchers  of  title  to  these  shares,  and 
made  a  present  of  them  to  M.  Thierry  de  Ville 
d'Avray,  his  chief  valet  dc  chambre. 

The  Queen  was  desirous  to  secure  the  comfort  of 
Mesdames,  the  daughters  of  Louis  XV.,  who  were 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  85 

held  in  the  highest  respect.  About  this  period  she 
contributed  to  furnish  them  with  a  revenue  sufficient 
to  provide  them  an  easy,  pleasant  existence.  The  King 
gave  them  the  Chateau  of  Bellevue;  and  added  to 
the  produce  of  it,  which  was  given  up  to  them,  the 
expenses  of  their  table  and  equipage,  and  payment 
of  all  the  charges  of  their  household,  the  number  of 
which  was  even  increased.  During  the  lifetime 
of  Louis  XV.,  who  was  a  very  selfish  prince,  his 
daughters,  although  they  had  attained  forty  years 
of  age,  had  no  other  place  of  residence  than  their 
apartments  in  the  Chateau  of  Versailles;  no  other 
walks  than  such  as  they  could  take  in  the  large  park 
of  that  palace;  and  no  other  means  of  gratifying 
their  taste  for  the  cultivation  of  plants  but  by  having 
boxes  and  vases,  filled  with  them,  in  their  balconies 
or  their  closets.  They  had,  therefore,  reason  to  be 
much  pleased  with  the  conduct  of  Marie  Antoinette, 
who  had  the  greatest  influence  in  the  King's  kindness 
towards  his  aunts. 

Paris  did  not  cease,  during  the  first  years  of  the 
reign,  to  give  proofs  of  pleasure  whenever  the  Queen 
appeared  at  any  of  the  plays  of  the  capital.  At  the 
representation  of  "  Iphigenia  in  Aulis,"  the  actor  who 
sang  the  words,  "  Let  us  sing,  let  us  celebrate  our 
Queen!  "  which  were  repeated  by  the  chorus,  directed 
by  a  respectful  movement  the  eyes  of  the  whole 
assembly  upon  her  Majesty.  Reiterated  cries  of  Bis! 
and  clapping  of  hands,  were  followed  by  such  a  burst 
of  enthusiasm  that  many  of  the  audience  added  their 
voices  to  those  of  the  actors  in  order  to  celebrate,  it 
might  too  truly  be  said,  another  Iphigenia.  The 
Queen,  deeply  affected,  covered  her  eyes  with  her 
handkerchief;  and  this  proof  of  sensibility  raised  the 
public  enthusiasm  to  a  still  higher  pitch. 

The  King  gave  Marie  Antoinette   Petit  Trianon. 


86  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

Henceforward  she  amused  herself  with  improving  the 
gardens,  without  allowing  any  addition  to  the  build- 
ing, or  any  change  in  the  furniture,  which  was  very 
shabby,  and  remained,  in  1789,  in  the  same  state  as 
during  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  Everything  there, 
without  exception,  was  preserved;  and  the  Queen 
slept  in  a  faded  bed,  which  had  been  used  by  the 
Comtesse  du  Barry.  The  charge  of  extravagance, 
generally  made  against  the  Queen,  is  the  most  unac- 
countable of  all  the  popular  errors  respecting  her 
character.  She  had  exactly  the  contrary  failing;  and 
I  could  prove  that  she  often  carried  her  economy  to  a 
degree  of  parsimony  actually  blamable,  especially  in 
a  sovereign.  She  took  a  great  liking  for  Trianon, 
and  used  to  go  there  alone,  followed  by  a  valet;  but 
she  found  attendants  ready  to  receive  her, — a  con- 
cierge and  his  wife,  who  served  her  as  femme  de 
chambre,  women  of  the  wardrobe,  footmen,  etc. 

When  she  first  took  possession  of  Petit  Trianon,  it 
was  reported  that  she  changed  the  name  of  the  seat 
which  the  King  had  given  her,  and  called  it  Little 
Vienna,  or  Little  Schambrnnn.  A  person  who  be- 
longed to  the  Court,  and  was  silly  enough  to  give  this 
report  credit,  wishing  to  visit  Petit  Trianon  with  a 
party,  wrote  to  M.  Campan,  requesting  the  Queen's 
permission  to  do  so.  In  his  note  he  called  Trianon 
Little  Vienna.  Similar  requests  were  usually  laid 
before  the  Queen  just  as  they  were  made:  she  chose 
to  give  the  permissions  to  see  her  gardens  herself, 
liking  to  grant  these  little  favours.  When  she  came 
to  the  words  I  have  quoted  she  was  very  much 
offended,  and  exclaimed,  angrily,  that  there  were  too 
many  fools  ready  to  aid  the  malicious;  that  she  had 
been  told  of  the  report  circulated,  which  pretended 
that  she  had  thought  of  nothing  but  her  own  country, 
and  that  she  kept  an  Austrian  heart,  while  the  in- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  87 

terests  of  France  alone  ought  to  engage  her.  She 
refused  the  request  so  awkwardly  made,  and  desired 
M.  Campan  to  reply  that  Trianon  was  not  to  be  seen 
for  some  time,  and  that  the  Queen  was  astonished 
that  any  man  in  good  society  should  believe  she  would 
do  so  ill-judged  a  thing  as  to  change  the  French  names 
of  her  palaces  to  foreign  ones. 

Before  the  Emperor  Joseph  II. 's  first  visit  to  France 
the  Queen  received  a  visit  from  the  Archduke  Maxi- 
milian in  1775.  A  stupid  act  of  the  ambassador,  sec- 
onded on  the  part  of  the  Queen  by  the  Abbe  de 
Vermond,  gave  rise  at  that  period  to  a  discussion  which 
offended  the  Princes  of  the  blood  and  the  chief  no- 
bility of  the  kingdom.  Travelling  incognito,  the  young 
Prince  claimed  that  the  first  visit  was  not  due  from 
him  to  the  Princes  of  the  blood;  and  the  Queen  sup- 
ported his  pretension. 

From  the  time  of  the  Regency,  and  on  account  of 
the  residence  of  the  family  of  Orleans  in  the  bosom 
of  the  capital,  Paris  had  preserved  a  remarkable  de- 
gree of  attachment  and  respect  for  that  branch  of  the 
royal  house;  and  although  the  crown  was  becoming 
more  and  more  remote  from  the  Princes  of  the  House 
of  Orleans,  they  had  the  advantage  (a  great  one 
with  the  Parisians)  of  being  the  descendants  of 
Henri  IV.  An  affront  to  that  popular  family  was  a 
serious  ground  of  dislike  to  the  Queen.  It  was  at 
this  period  that  the  circles  of  the  city,  and  even  of 
the  Court,  expressed  themselves  bitterly  about  her  lev- 
ity, and  her  partiality  for  the  House  of  Austria.  The 
Prince  for  whom  the  Queen  had  embarked  in  an 
important  family  quarrel — and  a  quarrel  involving 
national  prerogatives — was,  besides,  little  calculated 
to  inspire  interest.  Still  young,  uninformed,  and 
deficient  in  natural  talent,  he  was  always  making 
blunders. 


88  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

He  went  to  the  Jardin  du  Roi ;  M.  de  Buffon,  who 
received  him  there,  offered  him  a  copy  of  his  works; 
the  Prince  declined  accepting  the  book,  saying  to  M. 
de  Buffon,  in  the  most  polite  manner  possible,  "  I 
should  be  very  sorry  to  deprive  you  of  it."  It  may 
be  supposed  that  the  Parisians  were  much  entertained 
with  this  answer. 

The  Queen  was  exceedingly  mortified  at  the  mis- 
takes made  by  her  brother;  but  what  hurt  her  most 
was  being  accused  of  preserving  an  Austrian  heart. 
Marie  Antoinette  had  more  than  once  to  endure  that 
imputation  during  the  long  course  of  her  misfortunes. 
Habit  did  not  stop  the  tears  such  injustice  caused; 
but  the  first  time  she  was  suspected  of  not  loving 
France,  she  gave  way  to  her  indignation.  All  that 
she  could  say  on  the  subject  was  useless;  by  second- 
ing the  pretensions  of  the  Archduke  she  had  put 
arms  into  her  enemies'  hands;  they  were  labouring  to 
deprive  her  of  the  love  of  the  people,  and  endeav- 
oured, by  all  possible  means,  to  spread  a  belief  that 
the  Queen  sighed  for  Germany,  and  preferred  that 
country  to  France. 

Marie  Antoinette  had  none  but  herself  to  rely  on 
for  preserving  the  fickle  smiles  of  the  Court  and  the 
public.  The  King,  too  indifferent  to  serve  her  as  a 
guide,  as  yet  had  conceived  no  love  for  her,  notwith- 
standing the  intimacy  that  grew  between  them  at 
Choisy.  In  his  closet  Louis  XVI.  was  immersed  in 
deep  study.  At  the  Council  he  was  busied  with  the 
welfare  of  his  people;  hunting  and  mechanical  occu- 
pations engrossed  his  leisure  moments,  and  he  never 
thought  on  the  subject  of  an  heir. 

The  coronation  took  place  at  Rheims,  with  all  the 
accustomed  pomp.  At  this  period  the  people's  love 
for  Louis  XVI.  burst  forth  in  transports  not  to  be  mis- 
taken for  party  demonstrations  or  idle  curiosity.    He 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  89 

replied  to  this  enthusiasm  by  marks  of  confidence, 
worthy  of  a  people  happy  in  being  governed  by  a  good 
King;  he  took  a  pleasure  in  repeatedly  walking  with- 
out guards,  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd  which  pressed 
around  him,  and  called  down  blessings  on  his  head. 
I  remarked  the  impression  made  at  this  time  by  an 
observation  of  Louis  XVI.  On  the  day  of  his  corona- 
tion he  put  his  hand  up  to  his  head,  at  the  moment 
of  the  crown  being  placed  upon  it,  and  said,  "  It 
pinches  me."  Henri  III.  had  exclaimed,  "  It  pricks 
me."  Those  who  were  near  the  King  were  struck 
with  the  similarity  between  these  two  exclamations, 
though  not  of  a  class  likely  to  be  blinded  by  the 
superstitious  fears  of  ignorance. 

While  the  Queen,  neglected  as  she  was,  could  not 
even  hope  for  the  happiness  of  being  a  mother,  she 
had  the  mortification  of  seeing  the  Comtesse  d'Artois 
give  birth  to  the  Due  d'Angouleme. 

Custom  required  that  the  royal  family  and  the 
whole  Court  should  be  present  at  the  accouchement  of 
the  Princesses;  the  Queen  was  therefore  obliged  to 
stay  a  whole  day  in  her  sister-in-law's  chamber.  The 
moment  the  Comtesse  d'Artois  was  informed  a  prince 
was  born,  she  put  her  hand  to  her  forehead  and  ex- 
claimed with  energy,  "  My  God,  how  happy  I  am ! " 
The  Queen  felt  very  differently  at  this  involuntary 
and  natural  exclamation.  Nevertheless,  her  behaviour 
was  perfect.  She  bestowed  all  possible  marks  of 
tenderness  upon  the  young  mother,  and  would  not 
leave  her  until  she  was  again  put  into  bed;  she 
afterwards  passed  along  the  staircase,  and  through 
the  hall  of  the  guards,  with  a  calm  demeanour,  in  the 
midst  of  an  immense  crowd.  The  poissardes,  who 
had  assumed  a  right  of  speaking  to  sovereigns  in  their 
own  vulgar  language,  followed  her  to  the  very  doors 
of  her  apartments,  calling  out  to  her  with  gross  ex- 


po  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

pressions,  that  she  ought  to  produce  heirs.  The 
Queen  reached  her  inner  room,  hurried  and  agitated; 
she  shut  herself  up  to  weep  with  me  alone,  not  from 
jealousy  of  her  sister-in-law's  happiness, — of  that 
she  was  incapable, — but  from  sorrow  at  her  own 
situation. 

Deprived  of  the  happiness  of  giving  an  heir  to  the 
crown,  the  Queen  endeavoured  to  interest  herself  in 
the  children  of  the  people  of  her  household.  She 
had  long  been  desirous  to  bring  up  one  of  them  her- 
self, and  to  make  it  the  constant  object  of  her  care. 
A  little  village  boy,  four  or  five  years  old,  full  of 
health,  with  a  pleasing  countenance,  remarkably  large 
blue  eyes,  and  fine  light  hair,  got  under  the  feet  of 
the  Queen's  horses,  when  she  was  taking  an  airing 
in  a  calash,  through  the  hamlet  of  St.  Michel,  near 
Louveciennes.  The  coachman  and  postilions  stopped 
the  horses,  and  the  child  was  rescued  without  the 
slightest  injury.  Its  grandmother  rushed  out  of  the 
door  of  her  cottage  to  take  it;  but  the  Queen,  stand- 
ing up  in  her  calash  and  extending  her  arms,  called 
out  that  the  child  was  hers,  and  that  destiny  had 
given  it  to  her,  to  console  her,  no  doubt,  until  she 
should  have  the  happiness  of  having  one  herself. 
"Is  his  mother  alive?"  asked  the  Queen.  "No, 
Madame;  my  daughter  died  last  winter,  and  left 
five  small  children  upon  my  hands."  "  I  will  take 
this  one,  and  provide  for  all  the  rest;  do  you  con- 
sent?" "Ah,  Madame,  they  are  too  fortunate," 
replied  the  cottager;  "but  Jacques  is  a  bad  boy.  I 
hope  he  will  stay  with  you!"  The  Queen,  taking 
little  Jacques  upon  her  knee,  said  that  she  would 
make  him  used  to  her,  and  gave  orders  to  proceed. 
It  was  necessary,  however,  to  shorten  the  drive,  so 
violently  did  Jacques  scream,  and  kick  the  Queen 
and  her  ladies. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  91 

The  arrival  of  her  Majesty  at  her  apartments  at 
Versailles,  holding  the  little  rustic  by  the  hand, 
astonished  the  whole  household;  he  cried  out  with 
intolerable  shrillness  that  he  wanted  his  grandmother, 
his  brother  Louis,  and  his  sister  Marianne;  nothing 
could  calm  him.  He  was  taken  away  by  the  wife 
of  a  servant,  who  was  appointed  to  attend  him  as 
nurse.  The  other  children  were  put  to  school. 
Little  Jacques,  whose  family  name  was  Armand, 
came  back  to  the  Queen  two  days  afterwards;  a 
white  frock  trimmed  with  lace,  a  rose-coloured  sash 
with  silver  fringe,  and  a  hat  decorated  with  feathers, 
were  now  substituted  for  the  woollen  cap,  the  little 
red  frock,  and  the  wooden  shoes.  The  child  was 
really  very  beautiful.  The  Queen  was  enchanted 
with  him;  he  was  brought  to  her  every  morning  at 
nine  o'clock;  he  breakfasted  and  dined  with  her,  and 
often  even  with  the  King.  She  liked  to  call  him 
my  child,  and  lavished  caresses  upon  him,  still  main- 
taining a  deep  silence  respecting  the  regrets  which 
constantly  occupied  her  heart. 

This  child  remained  with  the  Queen  until  the  time 
when  Madame  was  old  enough  to  come  home  to  her 
august  mother,  who  had  particularly  taken  upon  her- 
self the  care  of  her  education. 

The  Queen  talked  incessantly  of  the  qualities  which 
she  admired  in  Louis  XVI.,  and  gladly  attributed  to 
herself  the  slightest  favourable  change  in  his  manner; 
perhaps  she  displayed  too  unreservedly  the  joy  she 
felt,  and  the  share  she  appropriated  in  the  improve- 
ment. One  day  Louis  XVI.  saluted  her  ladies  with 
more  kindness  than  usual,  and  the  Queen  laughingly 
said  to  them,  "  Now  confess,  ladies,  that  for  one  so 
badly  taught  as  a  child,  the  King  has  saluted  you 
with  very  good  grace !  " 

The  Queen  hated  M.  de  La  Vauguyon;  she  accused 


92  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

him  atone  of  those  points  in  the  habits,  and  even  the 
sentiments,  of  the  King  which  hurt  her.  A  former 
first  woman  of  the  bedchamber  to  Queen  Maria 
Leczinska  had  continued  in  office  near  the  young 
Queen.  She  was  one  of  those  people  who  are  for- 
tunate enough  to  spend  their  lives  in  the  service  of 
kings  without  knowing  anything  of  what  is  passing 
at  Court.  She  was  a  great  devotee;  the  Abbe  Grisel, 
an  ex-Jesuit,  was  her  director.  Being  rich  from  her 
savings  and  an  income  of  50,000  livres,  she  kept  a 
very  good  table;  in  her  apartment,  at  the  Grand 
Commun,  the  most  distinguished  persons  who  still 
adhered  to  the  Order  of  Jesuits  often  assembled. 
The  Due  de  La  Vauguyon  was  intimate  with  her; 
their  chairs  at  the  Eglise  des  Recollets  were  placed 
near  each  other;  at  high  mass  and  at  vespers  they 
sang  the  "  Gloria  in  Excelsis  "  and  the  "  Magnificat  " 
together;  and  the  pious  virgin,  seeing  in  him  only  one 
of  God's  elect,  little  imagined  him  to  be  the  declared 
enemy  of  a  Princess  whom  she  served  and  revered. 
On  the  day  of  his  death  she  ran  in  tears  to  relate 
to  the  Queen  the  piety,  humility,  and  repentance  of 
the  last  moments  of  the  Due  de  La  Vauguyon.  He 
had  called  his  people  together,  she  said,  to  ask  their 
pardon.  "For  what?"  replied  the  Queen,  sharply; 
"  he  has  placed  and  pensioned  off  all  his  servants;  it 
was  of  the  King  and  his  brothers  that  the  holy  man 
you  bewail  should  have  asked  pardon,  for  having  paid 
so  little  attention  to  the  education  of  princes  on  whom 
the  fate  and  happiness  of  twenty-five  millions  of  men 
depend.  Luckily,"  added  she,  "  the  King  and  his 
brothers,  still  young,  have  incessantly  laboured  to  re- 
pair the  errors  of  their  preceptor." 

The  progress  of  time,  and  the  confidence  with 
which  the  King  and  the  Princes,  his  brothers,  were 
inspired  by  the  change   in  their   situation   since  vhe 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  93 

death  of  Louis  XV.,  had  developed  their  characters. 
I  will  endeavour  to  depict  them. 

The  features  of  Louis  XVI.  were  noble  enough, 
though  somewhat  melancholy  in  expression;  his  walk 
was  heavy  and  unmajestic;  his  person  greatly  neg- 
lected; his  hair,  whatever  might  be  the  skill  of  his 
hairdresser,  was  soon  in  disorder.  His  voice,  without 
being  harsh,  was  not  agreeable;  if  he  grew  animated 
in  speaking  he  often  got  above  his  natural  pitch,  and 
became  shrill.  The  Abbe  de  Radonvilliers,  his  pre- 
ceptor, one  of  the  Forty  of  the  French  Academy,  a 
learned  and  amiable  man,  had  given  him  and  Mon- 
sieur a  taste  for  study.  The  King  had  continued  to 
instruct  himself;  he  knew  the  English  language  per- 
fectly; I  have  often  heard  him  translate  some  of  the 
most  difficult  passages  in  Milton's  poems.  He  was  a 
skilful  geographer,  and  was  fond  of  drawing  and  col- 
ouring maps;  he  was  well  versed  in  history,  but  had 
not  perhaps  sufficiently  studied  the  spirit  of  it.  He 
appreciated  dramatic  beauties,  and  judged  them  accu- 
rately. At  Choisy,  one  day,  several  ladies  expressed 
their  dissatisfaction  because  the  French  actors  were 
going  to  perform  one  of  Moliere' s  pieces.  The  King 
inquired  why  they  disapproved  of  the  choice.  One 
of  them  answered  that  everybody  must  admit  that 
Moliere  had  very  bad  taste;  the  King  replied  that 
many  things  might  be  found  in  Moliere  contrary  to 
fashion,  but  that  it  appeared  to  him  difficult  to  point 
out  any  in  bad  taste.  This  Prince  combined  with  his 
attainments  the  attributes  of  a  good  husband,  a  tender 
father,  and  an  indulgent  master. 

Unfortunately  he  showed  too  much  predilection  for 
the  mechanical  arts;  masonry  and  lock-making  so  de- 
lighted him  that  he  admitted  into  his  private  apart- 
ment a  common  locksmith,  with  whom  he  made  keys 
and  locks;  and  his  hands,  blackened  by  that  sort  of 


94  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

work,  were  often,  in  my  presence,  the  subject  of  re- 
monstrances and  even  sharp  reproaches  from  the 
Queen,  who  would  have  chosen  other  amusements  for 
her  husband. 

Austere  and  rigid  with  regard  to  himself  alone,  the 
King  observed  the  laws  of  the  Church  with  scrupulous 
exactness.  He  fasted  and  abstained  throughout  the 
whole  of  Lent.  He  thought  it  right  that  the  Queen 
should  not  observe  these  customs  with  the  same  strict- 
ness. Though  sincerely  pious,  the  spirit  of  the  age 
had  disposed  his  mind  to  toleration.  Turgot,  Male- 
sherbes,  and  Necker  judged  that  this  Prince,  modest 
and  simple  in  his  habits,  would  willingly  sacrifice  the 
royal  prerogative  to  the  solid  greatness  of  his  people. 
His  heart,  in  truth,  disposed  him  towards  reforms; 
but  his  prejudices  and  fears,  and  the  clamours  of  pious 
and  privileged  persons,  intimidated  him,  and  made  him 
abandon  plans  which  his  love  for  the  people  had 
suggested. 

Monsieur  had  more  dignity  of  demeanour  than 
the  King;  but  his  corpulence  rendered  his  gait 
inelegant.  He  was  fond  of  pageantry  and  magnifi- 
cence. He  cultivated  the  belles  lettres,  and  under  as- 
sumed names  often  contributed  verses  to  the  Mercury 
and  other  papers. 

His  wonderful  memory  was  the  handmaid  of  his 
wit,  furnishing  him  with  the  happiest  quotations.  He 
knew  by  heart  a  varied  repertoire,  from  the  finest 
passages  of  the  Latin  classics  to  the  Latin  of  all  the 
prayers,  from  the  works  of  Racine  to  the  vaudeville 
of  "  Rose  et  Colas." 

The  Comte  d'Artois  had  an  agreeable  countenance, 
was  well  made,  skilful  in  bodily  exercises,  lively,  im- 
petuous, fond  of  pleasure,  and  very  particular  in  his 
dress.  Some  happy  observations  made  by  him  were 
repeated  with  approval,  and  gave  a  favourable  idea  of 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  95 

his  Heart.  The  Parisians  liked  the  open  and  frank 
character  of  this  Prince,  which  they  considered  na- 
tional, and  showed  real  affection  for  him. 

The  dominion  that  the  Queen  gained  over  the 
King's  mind,  the  charms  of  a  society  in  which 
Monsieur  displayed  his  wit,  and  to  which  the  Comte 
d'Artois  gave  life  by  the  vivacity  of  youth,  gradually 
softened  that  ruggedness  of  manner  in  Louis  XVI. 
which  a  better-conducted  education  might  have  pre- 
vented. Still,  this  defect  often  showed  itself,  and,  in 
spite  of  his  extreme  simplicity,  the  King  inspired 
those  who  had  occasion  to  speak  to  him  with  diffi- 
dence. Courtiers,  submissive  in  the  presence  of  their 
sovereign,  are  only  the  more  ready  to  caricature  him; 
with  little  good  breeding,  they  called  those  answers 
they  so  much  dreaded,  les  coups  de  boutoir  du  Roi. 

Methodical  in  all  his  habits,  the  King  always  went 
to  bed  at  eleven  precisely.  One  evening  the  Queen 
was  going  with  her  usual  circle  to  a  party,  either  at 
the  Due  de  Duras's  or  the  Princesse  de  Guemenee's. 
The  hand  of  the  clock  was  slily  put  forward  to  hasten 
the  King's  departure  by  a  few  minutes;  he  thought 
bed-time  was  come,  retired,  and  found  none  of  his 
attendants  ready  to  wait  on  him.  This  joke  became 
known  in  all  the  drawing-rooms  of  Versailles,  and 
was  disapproved  of  there.  Kings  have  no  privacy. 
Queens  have  no  boudoirs.  If  those  who  are  in  im- 
mediate attendance  upon  sovereigns  be  not  themselves 
disposed  to  transmit  their  private  habits  to  posterity, 
the  meanest  valet  will  relate  what  he  has  seen  or 
heard;  his  gossip  circulates  rapidly,  and  forms  public 
opinion,  which  at  length  ascribes  to  the  most  august 
persons  characters  which,  however  untrue  they  may 
be,  are  almost  always  indelible. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  winter  following  the  confinement  of  the 
Comtesse  d'Artois  was  very  severe;  the  recol- 
lections of  the  pleasure  which  sleighing-parties 
had  given  the  Queen  in  her  childhood  made  her  wish 
to  introduce  similar  ones  in  France.  This  amusement 
had  already  been  known  in  that  Court,  as  was  proved 
by  sleighs  being  found  in  the  stables  which  had  been 
used  by  the  Dauphin,  the  father  of  Louis  XVI.  Some 
were  constructed  for  the  Queen  in  a  more  modern 
style.  The  Princes  also  ordered  several;  and  in  a 
few  days  there  was  a  tolerable  number  of  these  vehi- 
cles. They  were  driven  by  the  princes  and  noblemen 
of  the  Court.  The  noise  of  the  bells  and  balls  with 
which  the  harness  of  the  horses  was  furnished,  the 
elegance  and  whiteness  of  their  plumes,  the  varied 
forms  of  the  carriages,  the  gold  with  which  they  were 
all  ornamented,  rendered  these  parties  delightful  to 
the  eye.  The  winter  was  very  favourable  to  them, 
the  snow  remaining  on  the  ground  nearly  six  weeks; 
the  drives  in  the  park  afforded  a  pleasure  shared  by 
the  spectators.  No  one  imagined  that  any  blame  could 
attach  to  so  innocent  an  amusement.  But  the  party 
were  tempted  to  extend  their  drives  as  far  as  the 
Champs  £lysees ;  a  few  sleighs  even  crossed  the  boule- 
vards; the  ladies  being  masked,  the  Queen's  enemies 
took  the  opportunity  of  saying  that  she  had  traversed 
the  streets  of  Paris  in  a  sleigh. 

This  became  a  matter  of  moment.  The  public  dis- 
covered in  it  a  predilection  for  the  habits  of  Vienna; 
but  all  that  Marie  Antoinette  did  was  criticised. 

96 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  97 

Sleigh-driving,  savouring  of  the  Northern  Courts, 
had  no  favour  among  the  Parisians.  The  Queen  was 
informed  of  this;  and  although  all  the  sleighs  were 
preserved,  and  several  subsequent  winters  lent  them- 
selves to  the  amusement,  she  would  not  resume  it. 

It  was  at  the  time  of  the  sleighing-parties  that  the 
Queen  became  intimately  acquainted  with  the   Prin- 
cesse  de  Lamballe,  who  made  her  appearance  in  them 
wrapped  in  fur,  with  all  the  brilliancy  and  freshness  of 
the  age  of  twenty, — the  emblem  of  spring,   peeping 
from  under  sable  and  ermine.     Her  situation,  more- 
over,   rendered    her    peculiarly    interesting;    married, 
when   she  was   scarcely  past   childhood,   to   a  young 
prince,  who  ruined  himself  by  the  contagious  exam- 
ple of  the  Due  d'Orleans,  she  had  had  nothing  to  do 
from  the  time  of  her  arrival  in  France  but  to  weep. 
A  widow  at  eighteen,  and  childless,  she  lived  with  the 
Due  de  Penthievre  as  an  adopted  daughter.     She  had 
the  tenderest  respect  and  attachment  for  that  vener- 
able Prince;  but  the  Queen,  though  doing  justice  to 
his  virtues,  saw  that  the  Due  de  Penthievre's  way  of 
life,   whether  at   Paris  or  at  his  country-seat,   could 
neither  afford  his  young  daughter-in-law  the  amuse- 
ments suited  to  her  time  of  life,  nor  ensure  her  in  the 
future  an  establishment  such  as  she  was  deprived  of 
by   her   widowhood.      She   determined,    therefore,    to 
establish  her  at  Versailles;  and  for  her  sake  revived 
the  office  of  superintendent,  which  had  been  discon- 
tinued at  Court  since  the  death  of  Mademoiselle  dey 
Clermont.     It  is  said  that  Maria  Leczinska  had  de- 
cided   that    this    place    should    continue    vacant,    the 
superintendent   having  so   extensive   a   power   in  the 
houses  of  queens  as  to  be  frequently  a  restraint  upon 
their  inclinations.     Differences  which  soon  took  place 
between  Marie  Antoinette  and  the  Princesse  de  Lam- 
balle respecting  the  official  prerogatives  of  the  latter, 


98  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

proved  that  the  wife  of  Louis  XV.  had  acted  judi- 
ciously in  abolishing  the  office;  but  a  kind  of  treaty- 
made  between  the  Queen  and  the  Princess  smoothed 
all  difficulties.  The  blame  for  too  strong  an  assertion 
of  claims  fell  upon  a  secretary  of  the  superintendent, 
who  had  been  her  adviser;  and  everything  was  so 
arranged  that  a  firm  friendship  existed  between  these 
two  Princesses  down  to  the  disastrous  period  which 
terminated  their  career. 

Notwithstanding  the  enthusiasm  which  the  splen- 
dour, grace,  and  kindness  of  the  Queen  generally  in- 
spired, secret  intrigues  continued  in  operation  against 
her.  A  short  time  after  the  ascension  of  Louis  XVI. 
to  the  throne,  the  minister  of  the  King's  household 
was  informed  that  a  most  offensive  libel  against  the 
Queen  was  about  to  appear.  The  lieutenant  of  police 
deputed  a  man  named  Goupil,  a  police  inspector,  to 
trace  this  libel;  he  came  soon  after  to  say  that  he 
had  found  out  the  place  where  the  work  was  being 
printed,  and  that  it  was  at  a  country  house  near 
Yverdun.  He  had  already  got  possession  of  two 
sheets,  which  contained  the  most  atrocious  calum- 
nies, conveyed  with  a  degree  of  art  which  might  make 
them  very  dangerous  to  the  Queen's  reputation.  Gou- 
pil said  that  he  could  obtain  the  rest,  but  that  he 
should  want  a  considerable  sum  for  that  purpose. 
Three  thousand  louis  were  given  him,  and  very  soon 
afterwards  he  brought  the  whole  manuscript  and  all 
that  had  been  printed  to  the  lieutenant  of  police.  He 
received  a  thousand  louis  more  as  a  reward  for  his 
address  and  zeal;  and  a  much  more  important  office 
was  about  to  be  given  him,  when  another  spy,  envious 
of  Goupil's  good  fortune,  gave  information  that  Goupil 
himself  was  the  author  of  the  libel;  that,  ten  years 
before,  he  had  been  put  into  the  Bicetre  for  swindling; 
and  that  Madame  Goupil  had  been  only  three  years 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  99 

out  of  the  Salpetriere,  where  she  had  been  placed 
under  another  name.  This  Madame  Goupil  was  very- 
pretty  and  very  intriguing;  she  had  found  means  to 
form  an  intimacy  with  Cardinal  de  Rohan,  whom  she 
led,  it  is  said,  to  hope  for  a  reconciliation  with  the 
Queen.  All  this  affair  was  hushed  up;  but  it  shows 
that  it  was  the  Queen's  fate  to  be  incessantly  attacked 
by  the  meanest  and  most  odious  machinations. 

Another  woman,  named  Cahouette  de  Villers,  whose 
husband  held  an  office  in  the  Treasury,  being  very- 
irregular  in  conduct,  and  of  a  scheming  turn  of  mind, 
had  a  mania  for  appearing  in  the  eyes  of  her  friends 
at  Paris  as  a  person  in  favour  at  Court,  to  which  she 
was  not  entitled  by  either  birth  or  office.  During  the 
latter  years  of  the  life  of  Louis  XV.  she  had  made 
many  dupes,  and  picked  up  considerable  sums  by- 
passing herself  off  as  the  King's  mistress.  The  fear 
of  irritating  Madame  du  Barry  was,  according  to 
her,  the  only  thing  which  prevented  her  enjoying 
that  title  openly.  She  came  regularly  to  Versailles, 
kept  herself  concealed  in  a  furnished  lodging,  and 
her  dupes  imagined  she  was  secretly  summoned  to 
Court. 

This  woman  formed  the  scheme  of  getting  admis- 
sion, if  possible,  to  the  presence  of  the  Queen,  or  at 
least  causing  it  to  be  believed  that  she  had  done  so. 
She  adopted  as  her  lover  Gabriel  de  Saint  Charles,  in- 
tendant  of  her  Majesty's  finances, — an  office,  the  priv- 
ileges of  which  were  confined  to  the  right  of  entering 
the  Queen's  apartment  on  Sunday.  Madame  de  Vil- 
lers came  every  Saturday  to  Versailles  with  M.  de 
Saint  Charles,  and  lodged  in  his  apartment.  M.  Cam- 
pan  was  there  several  times.  She  painted  tolerably- 
well,  and  she  requested  him  to  do  her  the  favour  to 
present  to  the  Queen  a  portrait  of  her  Majesty  which 
she  had  just  copied.     M.  Campan  knew  the  woman's 

Vol.  3  Memoirs — £ 


ioo  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

character,  and  refused  her.    A  few  days  after,  he  saw 
on  her  Majesty's  couch  the  portrait  which  he  had  de- 
clined to  present  to  her;  the  Queen  thought  it  badly 
painted,  and  gave  orders  that  it  should  be  carried  back 
to  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe,  who  had  sent  it  to  her. 
The  ill  success  of  the  portrait  did  not  deter  the  manceu- 
vrer  from  following  up  her  designs;  she  easily  pro- 
cured through  M.  de  Saint  Charles  patents  and  orders 
signed  by  the  Queen;  she  then  set  about  imitating  her 
writing,  and  composed  a  great  number  of  notes  and 
letters,  as  if  written  by  her  Majesty,  in  the  tenderest 
and    most    familiar    style.      For    many    months    she 
showed  them  as  great  secrets  to  several  of  her  particu- 
lar friends.     Afterwards,  she  made  the  Queen  appear 
to  write  to  her,  to  procure  various  fancy  articles.    Un- 
der the  pretext  of  wishing  to  execute  her  Majesty's 
commissions  accurately,  she  gave  these  letters  to  the 
tradesmen  to  read,  and  succeeded  in  having  it  said, 
in  many  houses,  that  the  Queen  had  a  particular  re- 
gard for  her.    She  then  enlarged  her  scheme,  and  rep- 
resented the   Queen  as  desiring  to  borrow   200,000 
francs  which  she  had  need  of,  but  which  she  did  not 
wish  to  ask  of  the  King  from  his  private  funds.    This 
letter,  being  shown  to  M.  Beranger,  fermier-general  of 
the  finances,  took  effect;  he  thought  himself  fortunate 
in  being  able  to  render  this  assistance  to  his  sovereign, 
and  lost  no  time  in  sending  the  200,000  francs  to  Ma- 
dame de  Villers.    This  first  step  was  followed  by  some 
doubts,  which  he  communicated  to  people  better  in- 
formed than  himself  of  what  was  passing  at  Court; 
they  added  to  his  uneasiness;  he  then  went  to  M.  de 
Sartine,  who  unravelled  the  whole  plot.     The  woman 
was  sent  to  St.  Pelagie;  and  the  unfortunate  husband 
was  ruined,  by  replacing  the  sum  borrowed,  and  by 
paying  for  the  jewels  fraudulently  purchased  in  the 
Queen's  name.     The  forged  letters  were  sent  to  her 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  101 

Majesty;  I  compared  them  in  her  presence  with  her 
own  handwriting,  and  the  only  distinguishable  differ- 
ence was  a  little  more  regularity  in  the  letters. 

This  trick,  discovered  and  punished  with  prudence 
and  without  passion,  produced  no  more  sensation  out 
of  doors  than  that  of  the  Inspector  Goupil. 

A  year  after  the  nomination  of  Madame  de  Lam- 
balle  to  the  post  of  superintendent  of  the  Queen's 
household,  balls  and  quadrilles  gave  rise  to  the  inti- 
macy of  her  Majesty  with  the  Comtesse  Jules  de 
Polignac.  This  lady  really  interested  Marie  Antoi- 
nette. She  was  not  rich,  and  generally  lived  upon 
her  estate  at  Claye.  The  Queen  was  astonished 
at  not  having  seen  her  at  Court  earlier.  The  confes- 
sion that  her  want  of  fortune  had  even  prevented 
her  appearance  at  the  celebration  of  the  marriages 
of  the  Princes  added  to  the  interest  which  she  had 
inspired. 

The  Queen  was  full  of  consideration,  and  took  de- 
light in  counteracting  the  injustice  of  fortune.  The 
Countess  was  induced  to  come  to  Court  by  her  hus- 
band's sister,  Madame  Diane  de  Polignac,  who  had 
been  appointed  lady  of  honour  to  the  Comtesse  d'Ar- 
tois.  The  Comtesse  Jules  was  really  fond  of  a  tranquil 
life;  the  impression  she  made  at  Court  affected  her  but 
little;  she  felt  only  the  attachment  manifested  for  her 
by  the  Queen.  I  had  occasion  to  see  her  from  the 
commencement  of  her  favour  at  Court;  she  often 
passed  whole  hours  with  me,  while  waiting  for  the 
Queen.  She  conversed  with  me  freely  and  ingen- 
uously about  the  honour,  and  at  the  same  time  the 
danger,  she  saw  in  the  kindness  of  which  she  was  the 
object.  The  Queen  sought  for  the  sweets  of  friend- 
ship; but  can  this  gratification,  so  rare  in  any  rank, 
exist  between  a  Queen  and  a  subject, — when  they  are 
surrounded,  moreover,  by  snares  laid  by  the  artifice  of 


102  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

courtiers  ?  This  pardonable  error  was  fatal  to  the  hap- 
piness of  Marie  Antoinette. 

The  retiring  character  of  the  Comtesse  Jules,  after- 
wards Duchesse  de  Polignac,  cannot  be  spoken  of  too 
favourably;  but  if  her  heart  was  incapable  of  forming 
ambitious  projects,  her  family  and  friends  in  her  for- 
tune beheld  their  own,  and  endeavoured  to  secure  the 
favour  of  the  Queen. 

The  Comtesse  de  Diane,  sister  of  M.  de  Polignac, 
and  the  Baron  de  Besenval  and  M.  de  Vaudreuil,  par- 
ticular friends  of  the  Polignac  family,  made  use  of 
means,  the  success  of  which  was  infallible.  One  of 
my  friends  (Comte  de  Moustier),  who  was  in  their 
secret,  came  to  tell  me  that  Madame  de  Polignac  was 
about  to  quit  Versailles  suddenly;  that  she  would  take 
leave  of  the  Queen  only  in  writing;  that  the  Comtesse 
Diane  and  M.  de  Vaudreuil  had  dictated  her  letter,  and 
the  whole  affair  was  arranged  for  the  purpose  of  stim- 
ulating the  attachment  of  Marie  Antoinette.  The  next 
day,  when  I  went  up  to  the  palace,  I  found  the  Queen 
with  a  letter  in  her  hand,  which  she  was  reading  with 
much  emotion;  it  was  the  letter  from  the  Comtesse 
Jules;  the  Queen  showed  it  to  me.  The  Countess  ex- 
pressed in  it  her  grief  at  leaving  a  princess  who  had 
loaded  her  with  kindness.  The  narrowness  of  her  for- 
tune compelled  her  to  do  so;  but  she  was  much  more 
strongly  impelled  by  the  fear  that  the  Queen's  friend- 
ship, after  having  raised  up  dangerous  enemies  against 
her,  might  abandon  her  to  their  hatred,  and  to  the  re- 
gret of  having  lost  the  august  favour  of  which  she 
was  the  object. 

This  step  produced  the  full  effect  that  had  been  ex- 
pected from  it.  A  young  and  sensitive  queen  cannot 
long  bear  the  idea  of  contradiction.  She  busied  her- 
self in  settling  the  Comtesse  Jules  near  her,  by  making 
such  a  provision  for  her  as  should  place  her  beyond 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  103 

anxiety.     Her  character  suited  the  Queen;   she  had 
merely  natural  talents,  no  pedantry,  no  affectation  of 
knowledge.     She  was  of  middle  size;  her  complexion 
very  fair,  her  eyebrows  and  hair  dark  brown,  her  teeth 
superb,  her  smile  enchanting,  and  her  whole  person 
graceful.    She  was  seen  almost  always  in  a  demi-toilet, 
remarkable  only  for  neatness  and  good  taste.    I  do  not 
think  I  ever  once  saw  diamonds  about  her,  even  at 
the  climax  of  her  fortune,  when  she  had  the  rank  of 
Duchess  at  Court.     I  have  always  believed  that  her 
sincere  attachment  for  the  Queen,  as  much  as  her  love 
of  simplicity,    induced   her   to   avoid   everything  that 
might  cause  her  to  be  thought  a  wealthy  favourite. 
She  had  not  one  of  the  failings  which  usually  accom- 
pany that  position.     She  loved  the  persons  who  shared 
the  Queen's  affections,  and  was  entirely  free  from  jeal- 
ousy.     Marie    Antoinette    flattered    herself    that    the 
Comtesse  Jules  and  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe  would 
be  her  especial  friends,  and  that  she  should  possess  a 
society  formed  according  to  her  own  taste.    "  I  will  re- 
ceive them  in  my  closet,  or  at  Trianon,"  said  she;  "  I 
will  enjoy  the  comforts  of  private  life,  which  exist 
not  for  us,  unless  we  have  the  good  sense  to  secure 
them     for     ourselves."       The    happiness    the    Queen 
thought  to  secure  was  destined  to  turn  to  vexation. 
All  those  courtiers  who  were  not  admitted  to  this  in- 
timacy    became     so     many     jealous     and     vindictive 
enemies. 

It  was  necessary  to  make  a  suitable  provision  for  the 
Countess.  The  place  of  first  equerry,  in  reversion  af- 
ter the  Comte  de  Tesse,  given  to  Comte  Jules  unknown 
to  the  titular  holder,  displeased  the  family  of  Noailles. 
This  family  had  just  sustained  another  mortification, 
the  appointment  of  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe  having 
in  some  degree  rendered  necessary  the  resignation  of 
the  Comtesse  de  Noailles,  whose  husband  was  there- 


104  THE  MEMOIRS  OE 

upon  made  a  marshal  of  France.  The  Princesse  de 
Lamballe,  although  she  did  not  quarrel  with  the 
Queen,  was  alarmed  at  the  establishment  of  the  Com- 
tesse  Jules  at  Court,  and  did  not  form,  as  her  Majesty- 
had  hoped,  a  part  of  that  intimate  society,  which  was 
in  turn  composed  of  Mesdames  Jules  and  Diane  de 
Polignac,  d'Andlau  and  de  Chalon,  and  Messieurs  de 
Guignes,  de  Coigny,  d'Adhemar,  de  Besenval,  lieu- 
tenant-colonel of  the  Swiss,  de  Polignac,  de  Vau- 
dreuil,  and  de  Guiche;  the  Prince  de  Ligne  and  the 
Duke  of  Dorset,  the  English  ambassador,  were  also 
admitted. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  the  Comtesse  Jules  main- 
tained any  great  state  at  Court.  The  Queen  contented 
herself  with  giving  her  very  fine  apartments  at  the 
top  of  the  marble  staircase.  The  salary  of  first 
equerry,  the  trifling  emoluments  derived  from  M.  de 
Polignac's  regiment,  added  to  their  slender  patrimony, 
and  perhaps  some  small  pension,  at  that  time  formed 
the  whole  fortune  of  the  favourite.  I  never  saw  the 
Queen  make  her  a  present  of  value;  I  was  even  aston- 
ished one  day  at  hearing  her  Majesty  mention,  with 
pleasure,  that  the  Countess  had  gained  ten  thousand 
francs  in  the  lottery.  "  She  was  in  great  want  of  it," 
added  the  Queen. 

Thus  the  Polignacs  were  not  settled  at  Court  in  any 
degree  of  splendour  which  could  justify  complaints 
from  others,  and  the  substantial  favours  bestowed 
upon  that  family  were  less  envied  than  the  intimacy 
between  them  and  their  proteges  and  the  Queen. 
Those  who  had  no  hope  of  entering  the  circle  of  the 
Comtesse  Jules  were  made  jealous  by  the  opportunities 
of  advancement  it  afforded. 

However,  at  the  time  I  speak  of,  the  society  around 
the  Comtesse  Jules  was  fully  engaged  in  gratifying  the 
young  Queen.     Of  this  the  Marquis  de  Vaudreuil  was 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  105 

a  conspicuous  member;  he  was  a  brilliant  man,  the 
friend  and  protector  of  men  of  letters  and  celebrated 
artists. 

The  Baron  de  Besenval  added  to  the  bluntness  of 
the  Swiss  all  the  adroitness  of  a  French  courtier.  His 
fifty  years  and  gray  hairs  made  him  enjoy  among 
women  the  confidence  inspired  by  mature  age,  although 
he  had  not  given  up  the  thought  of  love  affairs.  He 
talked  of  his  native  mountains  with  enthusiasm.  He 
would  at  any  time  sing  the  "  Ranz  des  Vaches  "  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  and  was  the  best  story-teller  in  the 
Comtesse  Jules's  circle.  The  last  new  song  or  bon 
mot  and  the  gossip  of  the  day  were  the  sole  topics  of 
conversation  in  the  Queen's  parties.  Wit  was  ban- 
ished from  them.  The  Comtesse  Diane,  more  inclined 
to  literary  pursuits  than  her  sister-in-law,  one  day 
recommended  her  to  read  the  "  Iliad  "  and  "  Odys- 
sey." The  latter  replied,  laughing,  that  she  was  per- 
fectly acquainted  with  the  Greek  poet,  and  said  to 
prove  it: 

"  Homere  etait  aveugle  et  jouait  du  hautbois." 
(Homer  was  blind  and  played  on  the  hautboy.) 

The  Queen  found  this  sort  of  humour  very  much  to 
her  taste,  and  said  that  no  pedant  should  ever  be  her 
friend. 

Before  the  Queen  fixed  her  assemblies  at  Madame 
de  Polignac's,  she  occasionally  passed  the  evening  at 
the  house  of  the  Due  and  Duchesse  de  Duras,  where 
a  brilliant  party  of  young  persons  met  together.  They 
introduced  a  taste  for  trifling  games,  such  as  question 
and  answer,  guerre  panpan,  blind  man's  buff,  and  es- 
pecially a  game  called  descampativos.  The  people  of 
Paris,  always  criticising,  but  always  imitating  the  cus- 
toms of  the  Court,  were  infected  with  the  mania  for 


106  MARTE  ANTOINETTE 

these  childish  sports.  Madame  de  Genlis,  sketching 
the  follies  of  the  day  in  one  of  her  plays,  speaks  of 
these  famous  dcscampativos;  and  also  of  the  rage  for 
making  a  friend,  called  the  inseparable,  until  a  whim 
or  the  slightest  difference  might  occasion  a  total 
rupture. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  Due  de  Choiseul  had  reappeared  at  Court  on 
the  ceremony  of  the  King's  coronation  for  the 
first  time  after  his  disgrace  under  Louis  XV.  in 
1770.  The  state  of  public  feeling  on  the  subject  gave 
his  friends  hope  of  seeing  him  again  in  administration, 
or  in  the  Council  of  State;  but  the  opposite  party  was 
too  firmly  seated  at  Versailles,  and  the  young  Queen's 
influence  was  outweighed,  in  the  mind  of  the  King,  by 
long-standing  prejudices;  she  therefore  gave  up  for 
ever  her  attempt  to  reinstate  the  Duke.  Thus  this 
Princess,  who  has  been  described  as  so  ambitious,  and 
so  strenuously  supporting  the  interest  of  the  House  of 
Austria,  failed  twice  in  the  only  scheme  which  could 
forward  the  views  constantly  attributed  to  her;  and 
spent  the  whole  of  her  reign  surrounded  by  enemies 
of  herself  and  her  house. 

Marie  Antoinette  took  little  pains  to  promote  liter- 
ature and  the  fine  arts.  She  had  been  annoyed  in  con- 
sequence of  having  ordered  a  performance  of  the 
"  Connetable  de  Bourbon,"  on  the  celebration  of  the 
marriage  of  Madame  Clotilde  with  the  Prince  of  Pied- 
mont. The  Court  and  the  people  of  Paris  censured 
as  indecorous  the  naming  characters  in  the  piece  after 
the  reigning  family,  and  that  with  which  the  new  al- 
liance was  formed.  The  reading  of  this  piece  by  the 
Comte  de  Guibert  in  the  Queen's  closet  had  produced 
in  her  Majesty's  circle  that  sort  of  enthusiasm  which 
obscures  the  judgment.  'She  promised  herself  she 
would  have  no  more  readings.  Yet,  at  the  request  of 
M.  de  Cubieres,  the  King's  equerry,  the  Queen  agreed 

107 


io8  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

to  hear  the  reading  of  a  comedy  written  by  his  brother. 
She  collected  her  intimate  circle,  Messieurs  de  Coigny, 
de  Vaudreuil,  de  Besenval,  Mesdames  de  Polignac,  de 
Chalon,  etc.,  and  to  increase  the  number  of  judges,  she 
admitted  the  two  Parnys,  the  Chevalier  de  Bertin,  my 
father-in-law,  and  myself.  Mole  read  for  the  author. 
I  never  could  satisfy  myself  by  what  magic  the  skill- 
ful reader  gained  our  unanimous  approbation  of  a 
ridiculous  work.  Surely  the  delightful  voice  of  Mole, 
by  awakening  our  recollection  of  the  dramatic  beau- 
ties of  the  French  stage,  prevented  the  wretched  lines 
of  Dorat  Cubieres  from  striking  on  our  ears.  I  can 
assert  that  the  exclamation  Charming!  Charming!  re- 
peatedly interrupted  the  reader.  The  piece  was  ad- 
mitted for  performance  at  Fontainebleau ;  and  for  the 
first  time  the  King  had  the  curtain  dropped  before  the 
end  of  the  play.  It  was  called  the  "  Dramomane  " 
or  "  Dramaturge."  All  the  characters  died  of  eating 
poison  in  a  pie.  The  Queen,  highly  disconcerted  at 
having  recommended  this  absurd  production,  an- 
nounced that  she  would  never  hear  another  reading; 
and  this  time  she  kept  her  word. 

The  tragedy  of  "  Mustapha  and  Zeangir,"  by  M. 
de  Chamfort,  was  highly  successful  at  the  Court  the- 
atre at  Fontainebleau.  The  Queen  procured  the  au- 
thor a  pension  of  1,200  francs,  but  his  play  failed  on 
being  performed  at  Paris. 

The  spirit  of  opposition  which  prevailed  in  that  city 
delighted  in  reversing  the  verdicts  of  the  Court.  The 
Queen  determined  never  again  to  give  any  marked 
countenance  to  new  dramatic  works.  She  reserved  her 
patronage  for  musical  composers,  and  in  a  few  years 
their  art  arrived  at  a  perfection  it  had  never  before 
attained  in  France. 

It  was  solely  to  gratify  the  Queen  that  the  manager 
of  the  Opera  brought  the  first  company  of  comic  actors 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  109 

to  Paris.  Gluck,  Piccini,  and  Sacchini  were  attracted 
there  in  succession.  These  eminent  composers  were 
treated  with  great  distinction  at  Court.  Immediately 
on  his  arrival  in  France,  Gluck  was  admitted  to  the 
Queen's  toilet,  and  she  talked  to  him  all  the  time  he 
remained  with  her.  She  asked  him  one  day  whether 
he  had  nearly  brought  his  grand  opera  of  "  Armide  " 
to  a  conclusion,  and  whether  it  pleased  him.  Gluck 
replied  very  coolly,  in  his  German  accent,  "  Madame, 
it  will  soon  be  finished,  and  really  it  will  be  superb." 
There  was  a  great  outcry  against  the  confidence  with 
which  the  composer  had  spoken  of  one  of  his  own  pro- 
ductions. The  Queen  defended  him  warmly;  she  in- 
sisted that  he  could  not  be  ignorant  of  the  merit  of 
his  works;  that  he  well  knew  they  were  generally 
admired,  and  that  no  doubt  he  was  afraid  lest  a  mod- 
esty, merely  dictated  by  politeness,  should  look  like 
affectation  in  him. 

The  Queen  did  not  confine  her  admiration  to  the 
lofty  style  of  the  French  and  Italian  operas;  she 
greatly  valued  Gretry's  music,  so  well  adapted  to  the 
spirit  and  feeling  of  the  words.  A  great  deal  of  the 
poetry  set  to  music  by  Gretry  is  by  Marmontel.  The 
day  after  the  first  performance  of  "  Zemira  and 
Azor,"  Marmontel  and  Gretry  were  presented  to  the 
Queen  as  she  was  passing  through  the  gallery  of  Fon- 
tainebleau  to  go  to  mass.  The  Queen  congratulated 
Gretry  on  the  success  of  the  new  opera,  and  told  him 
that  she  had  dreamed  of  the  enchanting  effect  of  the 
trio  by  Zemira's  father  and  sisters  behind  the  magic 
mirror.  Gretry,  in  a  transport  of  joy,  took  Marmon- 
tel in  his  arms,  "Ah!  my  friend,"  cried  he,  "excel- 
lent music  may  be  made  of  this."  "  And  execrable 
words,"  coolly  observed  Marmontel,  to  whom  her 
Majesty  had  not  addressed  a  single  compliment. 

The  most  indifferent  artists  were  permitted  to  have 


no  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  honour  of  painting  the  Queen.  A  full-length  por- 
trait, representing  her  in  all  the  pomp  of  royalty,  was 
exhibited  in  the  gallery  of  Versailles.  This  picture, 
which  was  intended  for  the  Court  of  Vienna,  was  exe- 
cuted by  a  man  who  does  not  deserve  even  to  be 
named,  and  disgusted  all  people  of  taste.  It  seemed 
as  if  this  art  had,  in  France,  retrograded  several 
centuries. 

The  Queen  had  not  that  enlightened  judgment,  or 
even  that  mere  taste,  which  enables  princes  to  foster 
and  protect  great  talents.  She  confessed  frankly  that 
she  saw  no  merit  in  any  portrait  beyond  the  likeness. 
When  she  went  to  the  Louvre,  she  would  run  hastily 
over  all  the  little  "  genre  "  pictures,  and  come  out,  as 
she  acknowledged,  without  having  once  raised  her  eyes 
to  the  grand  compositions. 

There  is  no  good  portrait  of  the  Queen,  save  that 
by  Werthmiiller,  chief  painter  to  the  King  of  Sweden, 
which  was  sent  to  Stockholm,  and  that  by  Madame 
Lebrun,  which  was  saved  from  the  revolutionary  fury 
by  the  commissioners  for  the  care  of  the  furniture  at 
Versailles.  The  composition  of  the  latter  picture  re- 
sembles that  of  Henriette  of  France,  the  wife  of  the 
unfortunate  Charles  I.,  painted  by  Vandyke.  Like 
Marie  Antoinette,  she  is  seated,  surrounded  by  her 
children,  and  that  resemblance  adds  to  the  melancholy 
interest  raised  by  this  beautiful  production. 

While  admitting  that  the  Queen  gave  no  direct  en- 
couragement to  any  art  but  that  of  music,  I  should  be 
wrong  to  pass  over  in  silence  the  patronage  conferred 
by  her  and  the  Princes,  brothers  of  the  King,  on  the 
art  of  printing. 

To  Marie  Antoinette  we  are  indebted  for  a  splendid 
quarto  edition  of  the  works  of  Metastasio;  to  Mon- 
sieur, the  King's  brother,  for  a  quarto  Tasso,  embel- 
lished with  engravings  alter  Cochin;  and  to  the  Comte 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  in 

d'Artois  for  a  small  collection  of  select  works,  which 
is  considered  one  of  the  chefs-d'ceuvre  of  the  press  of 
the  celebrated  Didot. 

In  1775,  on  the  death  of  the  Marechal  du  Muy,  the 
ascendency  obtained  by  the  sect  of  innovators  occa- 
sioned M.  de  Saint-Germain  to  be  recalled  to  Court 
and  made  Minister  of  War.  His  first  care  was  the 
destruction  of  the  King's  military  household  estab- 
lishment, an  imposing  and  effectual  rampart  round  the 
sovereign  power. 

When  Chancellor  Maupeou  obtained  from  Louis 
XV.  the  destruction  of  the  Parliament  and  the  exile 
of  all  the  ancient  magistrates,  the  Mousquetaires  were 
charged  with  the  execution  of  the  commission  for  this 
purpose ;  and  at  the  stroke  of  midnight,  the  presidents 
and  members  were  all  arrested,  each  by  two  Mousque- 
taires. In  the  spring  of  1775  a  popular  insurrection 
had  taken  place  in  consequence  of  the  high  price  of 
bread.  M.  Turgot's  new  regulation,  which  permitted 
unlimited  trade  in  corn,  was  either  its  cause  or  the 
pretext  for  it;  and  the  King's  household  troops  again 
rendered  the  greatest  services  to  public  tranquillity. 

I  have  never  been  able  to  discover  the  true  cause  of 
the  support  given  to  M.  de  Saint-Germain's  policy  by 
the  Queen,  unless  in  the  marked  favour  shown  to  the 
captains  and  officers  of  the  Body  Guards,  who  by  this 
reduction  became  the  only  soldiers  of  their  rank  en- 
trusted with  the  safety  of  the  sovereign;  or  else  in  the 
Queen's  strong  prejudice  against  the  Due  d'Aiguillon, 
then  commander  of  the  light-horse.  M.  de  Saint-Ger- 
main, however,  retained  fifty  gens  d'armes  and  fifty 
light-horse  to  form  a  royal  escort  on  state  occasions; 
but  in  1787  the  King  reduced  both  these  military 
bodies.  The  Queen  then  said  with  satisfaction  that 
at  last  she  should  see  no  more  red  coats  in  the  gallery 
of  Versailles. 


112  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

From  1775  to  1781  were  the  gayest  years  of  the 
Queen's  life.  In  the  little  journeys  to  Choisy,  per- 
formances frequently  took  place  at  the  theatre  twice 
in  one  day;  grand  opera  and  French  or  Italian  com- 
edy at  the  usual  hour;  and  at  eleven  at  night  they 
returned  to  the  theatre  for  parodies  in  which  the  best 
actors  of  the  Opera  presented  themselves  in  whimsical 
parts  and  costumes.  The  celebrated  dancer  Guimard 
always  took  the  leading  characters  in  the  latter  per- 
formance; she  danced  better  than  she  acted;  her  ex- 
treme leanness,  and  her  weak,  hoarse  voice  added  to 
the  burlesque  in  the  parodied  characters  of  Ernelinde 
and  Iphigenie. 

The  most  magnificent  fete  ever  given  to  the  Queen 
was  one  prepared  for  her  by  Monsieur,  the  King's 
brother,  at  Brunoy.  That  Prince  did  me  the  honour 
to  admit  me,  and  I  followed  her  Majesty  into  the 
gardens,  where  she  found  in  the  first  copse  knights  in 
full  armour  asleep  at  the  foot  of  trees,  on  which  hung 
their  spears  and  shields.  The  absence  of  the  beauties 
who  had  incited  the  nephews  of  Charlemagne  and  the 
gallants  of  that  period  to  lofty  deeds  was  supposed  to 
occasion  this  lethargic  slumber.  But  when  the  Queen 
appeared  at  the  entrance  of  the  copse  they  were  on 
foot  in  an  instant,  and  melodious  voices  announced 
their  eagerness  to  display  their  valour.  They  then 
hastened  into  a  vast  arena,  magnificently  decorated  in 
the  exact  style  of  the  ancient  tournaments.  Fifty 
dancers  dressed  as  pages  presented  to  the  knights 
twenty-five  superb  black  horses,  and  twenty-five  of  a 
dazzling  whiteness,  all  most  richly  caparisoned.  The 
party  led  by  Augustus  Vestris  wore  the  Queen's  col- 
ours. Picq,  ballet-master  at  the  Russian  Court,  com- 
manded the  opposing  band.  There  was  running  at  the 
negro's  head,  tilting,  and,  lastly,  combats  a  outrance, 
perfectly  well  imitated.    Although  the  spectators  were 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  113 

aware  that  the  Queen's  colours  could  not  but  be  vic- 
torious, they  did  not  the  less  enjoy  the  apparent  un- 
certainty. 

Nearly  all  the  agreeable  women  of  Paris  were 
ranged  upon  the  steps  which  surrounded  the  area  of 
the  tourney.  The  Queen,  surrounded  by  the  royal 
family  and  the  whole  Court,  was  placed  beneath  an 
elevated  canopy.  A  play,  followed  by  a  ballet-panto- 
mime and  a  ball,  terminated  the  fete.  Fireworks  and 
illuminations  were  not  spared.  Finally,  from  a  pro- 
digiously high  scaffold,  placed  on  a  rising  ground,  the 
words  Vive  Louis!  Vive  Marie  Antoinette!  were 
shown  in  the  air  in  the  midst  of  a  very  dark  but  calm 
night. 

Pleasure  was  the  sole  pursuit  of  every  one  of  this 
young  family,  with  the  exception  of  the  King.  Their 
love  of  it  was  perpetually  encouraged  by  a  crowd  of 
those  officious  people  who,  by  anticipating  the  desires 
and  even  the  passions  of  princes,  find  means  of  show- 
ing their  zeal,  and  hope  to  gain  or  maintain  favour  for 
themselves. 

Who  would  have  dared  to  check  the  amusements  of 
a  queen,  young,  lively,  and  handsome?  A  mother 
or  a  husband  alone  would  have  had  the  right  to  do  it; 
and  the  King  threw  no  impediment  in  the  way  of 
Marie  Antoinette's  inclinations.  His  long  indifference 
had  been  followed  by  admiration  and  love.  He  was 
a  slave  to  all  the  wishes  of  the  Queen,  who,  delighted 
with  the  happy  change  in  the  heart  and  habits  of  the 
King,  did  not  sufficiently  conceal  the  ascendency  she 
was  gaining  over  him. 

The  King  went  to  bed  every  night  at  eleven  pre- 
cisely; he  was  very  methodical,  and  nothing  was  al- 
lowed to  interfere  with  his  rules.  The  noise  which 
the  Queen  unavoidably  made  when  she  returned  very 
late  from  the  evenings  which  she  spent  with  the  Prin- 


H4  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

cesse  de  Guemenee  or  the  Due  de  Duras,  at  last  an- 
noyed the  King,  and  it  was  amicably  agreed  that 
the  Queen  should  apprise  him  when  she  intended  to  sit 
up  late.  He  then  began  to  sleep  in  his  own  apart- 
ment, which  had  never  before  happened  from  the  time 
of  their  marriage. 

During  the  winter  the  Queen  attended  the  Opera 
balls  with  a  single  lady  of  the  palace,  and  always  found 
there  Monsieur  and  the  Comte  d'Artois.  Her  people 
concealed  their  liveries  under  gray  cloth  greatcoats. 
She  never  thought  she  was  recognized,  while  all  the 
time  she  was  known  to  the  whole  assembly,  from  the 
first  moment  she  entered  the  theatre;  they  pretended, 
however,  not  to  recognize  her,  and  some  masquerade 
manoeuvre  was  always  adopted  to  give  her  the  pleas- 
ure of  fancying  herself  incognito. 

Louis  XVI.  determined  once  to  accompany  the 
Queen  to  a  masked  ball;  it  was  agreed  that  the  King 
should  hold  not  only  the  grand  but  the  petit  coucher, 
as  if  actually  going  to  bed.  The  Queen  went  to  his 
apartment  through  the  inner  corridors  of  the  palace, 
followed  by  one  of  her  women  with  a  black  domino; 
she  assisted  him  to  put  it  on,  and  they  went  alone  to 
the  chapel  court,  where  a  carriage  waited  for  them, 
with  the  captain  of  the  Guard  of  the  quarter,  and  a 
lady  of  the  palace.  The  King  was  but  little  amused, 
spoke  only  to  two  or  three  persons,  who  knew  him 
immediately,  and  found  nothing  to  admire  at  the  mas- 
querade but  Punches  and  Harlequins,  which  served  as 
a  joke  against  him  for  the  royal  family,  who  often 
amused  themselves  with  laughing  at  him  about  it. 

An  event,  simple  in  itself,  brought  dire  suspicion 
upon  the  Queen.  She  was  going  out  one  evening  with 
the  Duchesse  de  Luynes,  lady  of  the  palace,  when  her 
carriage  broke  down  at  the  entrance  into  Paris;  she 
was  obliged  to  alight;  the  Duchess  led  her  into  a  shop, 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  115 

while  a  footman  called  a  fiacre.  As  they  were  masked, 
if  they  had  but  known  how  to  keep  silence,  the  event 
would  never  have  been  known;  but  to  ride  in  a  fiacre 
is  so  unusual  an  adventure  for  a  queen  that  she  had 
hardly  entered  the  Opera-house  when  she  could  not 
help  saying  to  some  persons  whom  she  met  there: 
"  That  I  should  be  in  a  fiacre.    Is  it  not  droll?  " 

From  that  moment  all  Paris  was  informed  of  the 
adventure  of  the  fiacre.  It  was  said  that  everything 
connected  with  it  was  mysterious;  that  the  Queen  had 
kept  an  assignation  in  a  private  house  with  the  Due 
de  Coigny.  He  was  indeed  very  well  received  at 
Court,  but  equally  so  by  the  King  and  Queen.  These 
accusations  of  gallantry  once  set  afloat,  there  were  no 
longer  any  bounds  to  the  calumnies  circulated  at  Paris. 
If,  during  the  chase  or  at  cards,  the  Queen  spoke  to 
Lord  Edward  Dillon,  De  Lambertye,  or  others,  they 
were  so  many  favoured  lovers.  The  people  of  Paris 
did  not  know  that  none  of  those  young  persons  were 
admitted  into  the  Queen's  private  circle  of  friends; 
the  Queen  went  about  Paris  in  disguise,  and  had  made 
use  of  a  fiacre;  and  a  single  instance  of  levity  gives 
room  for  the  suspicion  of  others. 

Conscious  of  innocence,  and  well  knowing  that  all 
about  her  must  do  justice  to  her  private  life,  the  Queen 
spoke  of  these  reports  with  contempt,  contenting  her- 
self with  the  supposition  that  some  folly  in  the  young 
men  mentioned  had  given  rise  to  them.  She  therefore 
left  off  speaking  to  them  or  even  looking  at  them. 
Their  vanity  took  alarm  at  this,  and  revenge  induced 
them  either  to  say,  or  to  leave  others  to  think,  that 
they  were  unfortunate  enough  to  please  no  longer. 
Other  young  coxcombs,  placing  themselves  near  the 
private  box  which  the  Queen  occupied  incognito  when 
she  attended  the  public  theatre  at  Versailles,  had  the 
presumption  to  imagine  that  they  were  noticed  by  her; 


n6  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  I  have  known  such  notions  entertained  merely  ori 
account  of  the  Queen's  requesting  one  of  those  gentle- 
men to  inquire  behind  the  scenes  whether  it  would 
be  long  before  the  commencement  of  the  second 
piece. 

The  list  of  persons  received  into  the  Queen's  closet 
which  I  gave  in  the  preceding  chapter  was  placed  in 
the  hands  of  the  ushers  of  the  chamber  by  the  Prin- 
cesse  de  Lamballe;  and  the  persons  there  enumerated 
could  present  themselves  to  enjoy  the  distinction  only 
on  those  days  when  the  Queen  chose  to  be  with  her 
intimates  in  a  private  manner;  and  this  was  only  when 
she  was  slightly  indisposed.  People  of  the  first  rank 
at  Court  sometimes  requested  special  audiences  of  her; 
the  Queen  then  received  them  in  a  room  within  that 
called  the  closet  of  the  women  on  duty,  and  these 
women  announced  them  in  her  Majesty's  apartment. 

The  Due  de  Lauzun  had  a  good  deal  of  wit,  and 
chivalrous  manners.  The  Queen  was  accustomed  to 
see  him  at  the  King's  suppers,  and  at  the  house  of 
the  Princesse  de  Guemenee,  and  always  showed  him  at- 
tention. One  day  he  made  his  appearance  at  Madame 
de  Guemenee's  in  uniform,  and  with  the  most  magnifi- 
cent plume  of  white  heron's  feathers  that  it  was  pos- 
sible to  behold.  The  Queen  admired  the  plume,  and 
he  offered  it  to  her  through  the  Princesse  de  Gue- 
menee. As  he  had  worn  it  the  Queen  had  not  imag- 
ined that  he  could  think  of  giving  it  to  her;  much 
embarrassed  with  the  present  which  she  had,  as  it 
were,  drawn  upon  herself,  she  did  not  like  to  refuse 
it,  nor  did  she  know  whether  she  ought  to  make  one 
in  return;  afraid,  if  she  did  give  anything,  of  giving 
either  too  much  or  too  little,  she  contented  herself  with 
once  letting  M.  de  Lauzun  see  her  adorned  with  the 
plume.  In  his  secret  "  Memoirs  "  the  Duke  attaches 
an  importance  to  his  present,  which  proves  him  utterly 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  117 

unworthy  of  an  honour  accorded  only  to  his  name  and 
rank. 

A  short  time  afterwards  he  solicited  an  audience; 
the  Queen  granted  it;  as  she  would  have  done  to  any 
other  courtier  of  equal  rank.  I  was  in  the  room  ad- 
joining that  in  which  he  was  received;  a  few  minutes 
after  his  arrival  the  Queen  reopened  the  door,  and  said 
aloud,  and  in  an  angry  tone  of  voice,  "  Go,  monsieur." 
M.  de  Lauzun  bowed  low,  and  withdrew.  The  Queen 
was  much  agitated.  She  said  to  me :  "  That  man 
shall  never  again  come  within  my  doors."  A  few 
years  before  the  Revolution  of  1789  the  Marechal  de 
Biron  died.  The  Due  de  Lauzun,  heir  to  his  name,  as- 
pired to  the  important  post  of  colonel  of  the  regi- 
ment of  French  guards.  The  Queen,  however,  pro- 
cured it  for  the  Due  de  Chatelet.  The  Due  de  Biron 
espoused  the  cause  of  the  Due  d'Orleans,  and  became 
one  of  the  most  violent  enemies  of  Marie  Antoinette. 

It  is  with  reluctance  that  I  enter  minutely  on  a  de- 
fence of  the  Queen  against  two  infamous  accusations 
with  which  libellers  have  dared  to  swell  their  enven- 
omed volumes.  I  mean  the  unworthy  suspicions  of 
too  strong  an  attachment  for  the  Comte  d'Artois,  and 
of  the  motives  for  the  tender  friendship  which  sub- 
sisted between  the  Queen,  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe, 
and  the  Duchesse  de  Polignac.  I  do  not  believe  that 
the  Comte  d'Artois  was,  during  his  own  youth  and 
that  of  the  Queen,  so  much  smitten  as  has  been  said 
with  the  loveliness  of  his  sister-in-law;  I  can  affirm 
that  I  always  saw  that  Prince  maintain  the  most  re- 
spectful demeanour  towards  the  Queen;  that  she  al- 
ways spoke  of  his  good-nature  and  cheerfulness  with 
that  freedom  which  attends  only  the  purest  senti- 
ments; and  that  none  of  those  about  the  Queen  ever 
saw  in  the  affection  she  manifested  toward  the  Comte 
d'Artois  more  than  that  of  a  kind  and  tender  sister  for 


n8  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

her  youngest  brother.  As  to  the  intimate  connection 
between  Marie  Antoinette  and  the  ladies  I  have 
named,  it  never  had,  nor  could  have,  any  other  motive 
than  the  very  innocent  wish  to  secure  herself  two 
friends  in  the  midst  of  a  numerous  Court;  and  not- 
withstanding this  intimacy,  that  tone  of  respect  ob- 
served by  persons  of  the  most  exalted  rank  towards 
majesty  never  ceased  to  be  maintained. 

The  Queen,  much  occupied  with  the  society  of  Ma- 
dame de  Polignac,  and  an  unbroken  series  of  amuse- 
ments, found  less  time  for  the  Abbe  de  Vermond;  he 
therefore  resolved  to  retire  from  Court.  The  world 
did  him  the  honour  to  believe  that  he  had  hazarded 
remonstrances  upon  his  august  pupil's  frivolous  em- 
ployment of  her  time,  and  that  he  considered  himself, 
both  as  an  ecclesiastic  and  as  instructor,  now  out  of 
place  at  Court.  But  the  world  was  deceived:  his 
dissatisfaction  arose  purely  from  the  favour  shown  to 
the  Comtesse  Jules.  After  a  fortnight's  absence  we 
saw  him  at  Versailles  again,  resuming  his  usual  func- 
tions. 

The  Queen  could  express  herself  with  winning  gra- 
ciousness  to  persons  who  merited  her  praise.  When 
M.  Loustonneau  was  appointed  to  the  reversion  of  the 
post  of  first  surgeon  to  the  King,  he  came  to  make 
his  acknowledgments.  He  was  much  beloved  by  the 
poor,  to  whom  he  had  chiefly  devoted  his  talents, 
spending  nearly  thirty  thousand  francs  a  year  on  in- 
digent sufferers.  The  Queen  replied  to  his  thanks  by 
saying:  "You  are  satisfied,  Monsieur;  but  I  am  far 
from  being  so  with  the  inhabitants  of  Versailles.  On 
the  news  of  your  appointment  the  town  should  have 
been  illuminated."  "How  so,  Madame?"  asked  the 
astonished  surgeon,  who  was  very  modest.  "  Why," 
replied  the  Queen,  "if  the  poor  whom  you  have  suc- 
coured for  the  past  twenty  years  had  each  placed  a 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  119 

single   candle   in  their  windows  it   would  have  been 
the  most  beautiful  illumination  ever  witnessed." 

The  Queen  did  not  limit  her  kindness  to  friendly 
words.  There  was  frequently  seen  in  the  apartments 
of  Versailles  a  veteran  captain  of  the  grenadiers  of 
France,  called  the  Chevalier  d'Orville,  who  for  four 
years  had  been  soliciting  from  the  Minister  of  War 
the  post  of  major,  or  of  King's  lieutenant.  He  was 
known  to  be  very  poor;  but  he  supported  his  lot 
without  complaining  of  this  vexatious  delay  in  reward- 
ing his  honourable  services.  He  regularly  attended 
the  Marechal  de  Segur,  at  the  hour  appointed  for 
receiving  the  numerous  solicitations  in  his  depart- 
ment. One  day  the  Marshal  said  to  him :  "  You  arc 
still  at  Versailles,  M.  d'Orville?"  "Monsieur,"  he 
replied,  "  you  may  observe  that  by  this  board  of  the 
flooring  where  I  regularly  place  myself;  it  is  already 
worn  down  several  lines  by  the  weight  of  my  body." 
The  Queen  frequently  stood  at  the  window  of  her 
bedchamber  to  observe  with  her  glass  the  people 
walking  in  the  park.  Sometimes  she  inquired  the 
names  of  those  who  were  unknown  to  her.  One  day 
she  saw  the  Chevalier  d'Orville  passing,  and  asked  me 
the  name  of  that  knight  of  Saint  Louis,  whom  she  had 
seen  everywhere  for  a  long  time  past.  I  knew  who  he 
was,  and  related  his  history.  "  That  must  be  put  an 
end  to,"  said  the  Queen,  with  some  vivacity.  "  Such 
an  example  of  indifference  is  calculated  to  discourage 
our  soldiers."  Next  day,  in  crossing  the  gallery  to 
go  to  mass,  the  Queen  perceived  the  Chevalier  d'Or- 
ville; she  went  directly  towards  him.  The  poor  man 
fell  back  in  the  recess  of  a  window,  looking  to  the  right 
and  left  to  discover  the  person  whom  the  Queen  was 
seeking,  when  she  thus  addressed  him :  "  M.  d'Orville, 
you  have  been  several  years  at  Versailles,  soliciting  a 
majority  or  a   King's  lieutenancy.     You  must  have 


120  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

very  powerless  patrons."  "  I  have  none,  Madame," 
replied  the  Chevalier,  in  great  confusion.  "  Well !  I 
will  take  you  under  my  protection.  To-morrow  at 
the  same  hour  be  here  with  a  petition,  and  a  memo- 
rial of  your  services."  A  fortnight  after,  M.  d'Orville 
was  appointed  King's  lieutenant,  either  at  La  Rochelle 
or  at  Roche  fort. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

FROM  the  time  of  Louis  XVI. 's  accession  to  the 
throne,  the  Queen  had  been  expecting  a  visit 
from  her  brother,  the  Emperor  Joseph  II.  That  • 
Prince  was  the  constant  theme  of  her  discourse.  She 
boasted  of  his  intelligence,  his  love  of  occupation, 
his  military  knowledge,  and  the  perfect  simplicity  of 
his  manners.  Those  about  her  Majesty  ardently 
wished  to  see  at  Versailles  a  prince  so  worthy  of  his 
rank.  At  length  the  coming  of  Joseph  II.,  under  the 
title  of  Count  Falkenstein,  was  announced,  and  the 
very  day  on  which  he  would  be  at  Versailles  was 
mentioned.  The  first  embraces  between  the  Queen 
and  her  august  brother  took  place  in  the  presence  of 
all  the  Queen's  household.  The  sight  of  their  emo- 
tion was  extremely  affecting. 

The  Emperor  was  at  first  generally  admired  in 
France;  learned  men,  well-informed  officers,  and 
celebrated  artists  appreciated  the  extent  of  his  in- 
formation. He  made  less  impression  at  Court,  and 
very  little  in  the  private  circle  of  the  King  and 
Queen.  His  eccentric  manners,  his  frankness,  often 
degenerating  into  rudeness,  and  his  evidently  af- 
fected simplicity, — all  these  characteristics  caused 
him  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  prince  rather  singular 
than  admirable.  The  Queen  spoke  to  him  about  the 
apartment  she  had  prepared  for  him  in  the  Chateau; 
the  Emperor  answered  that  he  would  not  accept  it, 
and  that  while  travelling  he  always  lodged  at  a 
cabaret  (that  was  his  very  expression) ;  the  Queen 
insisted,  and  assured  him  that  he  should  be  at  per- 


122  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

feet  liberty,  and  placed  out  of  the  reach  of  noise.  He 
replied  that  he  knew  the  Chateau  of  Versailles  was 
very  large,  and  that  so  many  scoundrels  lived  there 
that  he  could  well  find  a  place;  but  that  his  valet 
de  chambre  had  made  up  his  camp-bed  in  a  lodging- 
house,  and  there  he  would  stay. 

He  dined  with  the  King  and  Queen,  and  supped 
with  the  whole  family.  He  appeared  to  take  an 
interest  in  the  young  Princesse  Elisabeth,  then  just 
past  childhood,  and  blooming  in  all  the  freshness  of 
that  age.  An  intended  marriage  between  him  and 
this  young  sister  of  the  King  was  reported  at  the 
time,  but  I  believe  it  had  no  foundation  in  truth. 

The  table  was  still  served  by  women  only,  when 
the  Queen  dined  in  private  with  the  King,  the  royal 
family,  or  crowned  heads.  I  was  present  at  the 
Queen's  dinner  almost  every  day.  The  Emperor 
would  talk  much  and  fluently;  he  expressed  himself 
in  French  with  facility,  and  the  singularity  of  his 
expressions  added  a  zest  to  his  conversation.  I  have 
often  heard  him  say  that  he  liked  spectaculous  objects, 
when  he  meant  to  express  such  things  as  formed  a 
show,  or  a  scene  worthy  of  interest.  He  disguised 
none  of  his  prejudices  against  the  etiquette  and  cus- 
toms of  the  Court  of  France;  and  even  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  King  made  them  the  subject  of  his 
sarcasms.  The  King  smiled,  but  never  made  any 
answer;  the  Queen  appeared  pained.  The  Emperor 
frequently  terminated  his  observations  upon  the  ob- 
jects in  Paris  which  he  had  admired  by  reproaching 
the  King  for  suffering  himself  to  remain  in  ignorance 
of  them.  He  could  not  conceive  how  such  a  wealth  of 
pictures  should  remain  shut  up  in  the  dust  of  im- 
mense stores;  and  told  him  one  day  that  but  for  the 
practice  of  placing  some  of  them  in  the  apartments 
of  Versailles  he  would  not  know  even  the  principal 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  123 

chef-d'oeuvre  that  he  possessed.  He  also  reproached 
him  for  not  having  visited  the  Hotel  des  Invalides 
nor  the  Ecole  Militaire;  and  even  went  so  far  as  to 
tell  him  before  us  that  he  ought  not  only  to  know 
what  Paris  contained,  but  to  travel  in  France,  and 
reside  a  few  days  in  each  of  his  large  towns. 

At  last  the  Queen  was  really  hurt  at  the  Emper- 
or's remarks,  and  gave  him  a  few  lectures  upon  the 
freedom  with  which  he  allowed  himself  to  lecture 
others.  One  day  she  was  busied  in  signing  warrants 
and  orders  for  payment  for  her  household,  and  was 
conversing  with  M.  Augeard,  her  secretary  for  such 
matters,  who  presented  the  papers  one  after  an- 
other to  be  signed,  and  replaced  them  in  his  port- 
folio. While  this  was  going  forward,  the  Emperor 
walked  about  the  room;  all  at  once  he  stood  still, 
to  reproach  the  Queen  rather  severely  for  signing 
all  those  papers  without  reading  them,  or,  at  least, 
without  running  her  eye  over  them;  and  he  spoke 
most  judiciously  to  her  upon  the  danger  of  signing 
her  name  inconsiderately.  The  Queen  answered  that 
very  wise  principles  might  be  very  ill  applied;  that 
her  secretary,  who  deserved  her  implicit  confidence, 
was  at  that  moment  laying  before  her  nothing  but 
orders  for  payment  of  the  quarter's  expenses  of  her 
household,  registered  in  the  Chamber  of  Accounts; 
and  that  she  ran  no  risk  of  incautiously  giving  her 
signature. 

The  Queen's  toilet  was  likewise  a  never-failing 
subject  for  animadversion  with  the  Emperor.  He 
blamed  her  for  having  introduced  too  many  new  fash- 
ions; and  teased  her  about  her  use  of  rouge.  One 
day,  while  she  was  laying  on  more  of  it  than  usual, 
before  going  to  the  play,  he  pointed  out  a  lady  who 
was  in  the  room,  and  who  was,  in  truth,  highly 
painted.     "  A  little  more  under  the  eyes,"   said  the 


124  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

Emperor  to  the  Queen;  "lay  on  the  rouge  like  a 
fury,  as  that  lady  does."  The  Queen  entreated  her 
brother  to  refrain  from  his  jokes,  or  at  all  events  to 
address  them,  when  they  were  so  outspoken,  to  her 
alone. 

The  Queen  had  made  an  appointment  to  meet  her 
brother  at  the  Italian  theatre;  she  changed  her  mind, 
and  went  to  the  French  theatre,  sending  a  page  to 
the  Italian  theatre  to  request  the  Emperor  to  come 
to  her  there.  He  left  his  box,  lighted  by  the 
comedian  Clairval,  and  attended  by  M.  de  la  Ferte, 
comptroller  of  the  Queen's  privy  purse,  who  was 
much  hurt  at  hearing  his  Imperial  Majesty,  after 
kindly  expressing  his  regret  at  not  being  present  dur- 
ing the  Italian  performance,  say  to  Clairval,  "  Your 
young  Queen  is  very  giddy;  but,  luckily,  you  French- 
men have  no  great  objection  to  that." 

I  was  with  my  father-in-law  in  one  of  the  Queen's 
apartments  when  the  Emperor  came  to  wait  for  her 
there,  and,  knowing  that  M.  Campan  was  librarian, 
he  conversed  with  him  about  such  books  as  would  of 
course  be  found  in  the  Queen's  library.  After  talk- 
ing of  our  most  celebrated  authors,  he  casually  said, 
"  There  are  doubtless  no  works  on  finance  or  on  ad- 
ministration here?" 

These  words  were  followed  by  his  opinion  on  all 
that  had  been  written  on  those  topics,  and  the  differ- 
ent systems  of  our  two  famous  ministers,  Sully  and 
Colbert;  on  errors  which  were  daily  committed  in 
France,  in  points  essential  to  the  prosperity  of  the 
Empire;  and  on  the  reform  he  himself  would  make 
at  Vienna.  Holding  M.  Campan  by  the  button,  he 
spent  more  than  an  hour  talking  vehemently,  and 
without  the  slightest  reserve,  about  the  French  Gov- 
ernment. My  father-in-law  and  myself  maintained 
profound  silence,  as  much  from  astonishment  as  from 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  125 

respect;  and  when  we  were  alone  we  agreed  not  to 
speak  of  this  interview. 

The  Emperor  was  fond  of  describing  the  Italian 
Courts  that  he  had  visited.  The  jealous  quarrels  be- 
tween the  King  and  Queen  of  Naples  amused  him 
highly;  he  described  to  the  life  the  manner  and  speech 
of  that  sovereign,  and  the  simplicity  with  which  he 
used  to  go  and  solicit  the  first  chamberlain  to  obtain 
permission  to  return  to  the  nuptial  bed,  when  the 
angry  Queen  had  banished  him  from  it.  The  time 
which  he  was  made  to  wait  for  this  reconciliation  was 
calculated  between  the  Queen  and  her  chamberlain,  and 
always  proportioned  to  the  gravity  of  the  offence.  He 
also  related  several  very  amusing  stories  relative  to 
the  Court  of  Parma,  of  which  he  spoke  with  no  little 
contempt.  If  what  this  Prince  said  of  those  Courts, 
and  even  of  Vienna,  had  been  written  down,  the  whole 
would  have  formed  an  interesting  collection.  The  Em- 
peror told  the  King  that  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany 
and  the  King  of  Naples  being  together,  the  former 
said  a  great  deal  about  the  changes  he  had  effected 
in  his  State.  The  Grand  Duke  had  issued  a  mass  of 
new  edicts,  in  order  to  carry  the  precepts  of  the  econ- 
omists into  execution,  and  trusted  that  in  so  doing 
he  was  labouring  for  the  welfare  of  his  people.  The 
King  of  Naples  suffered  him  to  go  on  speaking  for 
a  long  time,  and  then  casually  asked  how  many  Nea- 
politan families  there  were  in  Tuscany.  The  Duke 
soon  reckoned  them  up,  as  they  were  but  few.  "  Well, 
brother,"  replied  the  King  of  Naples,  "  I  do  not  un- 
derstand the  indifference  of  your  people  towards  your 
great  reforms;  for  I  have  four  times  the  number  of 
Tuscan  families  settled  in  my  States  that  you  have  of 
Neapolitan  families  in  yours." 

The  Queen  being  at  the  Opera  with  the  Emperor, 
the  latter  did  not  wish  to  show  himself;  but  she  took 


126  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

him  by  the  hand,  and  gently  drew  him  to  the  front  of 
the  box.  This  kind  of  presentation  to  the  public  was 
most  warmly  received.  The  performance  was  "  Iphi- 
genia  in  Aulis,"  and  for  the  second  time  the  chorus, 
"  Chantons,  celebrons  notre  Rcine! "  was  called  for 
with  universal  plaudits. 

A  fete  of  a  novel  description  was  given  at  Petit 
Trianon.  The  art  with  which  the  English  garden 
was  not  illuminated,  but  lighted,  produced  a  charm- 
ing effect.  Earthen  lamps,  concealed  by  boards 
painted  green,  threw  light  upon  the  beds  of  shrubs 
and  flowers,  and  brought  out  their  varied  tints.  Sev- 
eral hundred  burning  fagots  in  the  moat  behind  the 
Temple  of  Love  made  a  blaze  of  light,  which  rendered 
that  spot  the  most  brilliant  in  the  garden.  After  all, 
this  evening's  entertainment  had  nothing  remarkable 
about  it  but  the  good  taste  of  the  artists,  yet  it  was 
much  talked  of.  The  situation  did  not  allow  the  ad- 
mission of  a  great  part  of  the  Court;  those  who  were 
uninvited  were  dissatisfied;  and  the  people,  who  never 
forgive  any  fetes  but  those  they  share  in,  so  exagger- 
ated the  cost  of  this  little  fete  as  to  make  it  appear 
that  the  fagots  burnt  in  the  moat  had  required  the 
destruction  of  a  whole  forest.  The  Queen  being  in- 
formed of  these  reports,  was  determined  to  know  ex- 
actly how  much  wood  had  been  consumed;  and  she 
found  that  fifteen  hundred  fagots  had  sufficed  to  keep 
up  the  fire  until  four  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

After  staying  a  few  months  the  Emperor  left 
France,  promising  his  sister  to  come  and  see  her  again. 
All  the  officers  of  the  Queen's  chamber  had  many 
opportunities  of  serving  him  during  his  stay,  and  ex- 
pected that  he  would  make  them  presents  before  his 
departure.  Their  oath  of  office  positively  forbade 
them  to  receive  a  gift  from  any  foreign  prince;  they 
had  therefore  agreed  to  refuse  the  Emperor's  pres- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  127 

ents  at  first,  but  to  ask  the  time  necessary  for  obtain- 
ing permission  to  accept  them.  The  Emperor,  proba- 
bly informed  of  this  custom,  relieved  the  good  people 
from  their  difficulty  by  setting  off  without  making  a 
single  present. 

About  the  latter  end  of  1777  the  Queen,  being  alone 
in  her  closet,  sent  for  my  father-in-law  and  myself, 
and,  giving  us  her  hand  to  kiss,  told  us  that,  looking 
upon  us  both  as  persons  deeply  interested  in  her  hap- 
piness, she  wished  to  receive  our  congratulations,— 
that  at  length  she  was  the  Queen  of  France,  and  that 
she  hoped  soon  to  have  children;  that  till  now  she  had 
concealed  her  grief,  but  that  she  had  shed  many  tears 
in  secret. 

Dating  from  this  happy  but  long-delayed  moment, 
the  King's  attachment  to  the  Queen  assumed  every 
characteristic  of  love.  The  good  Lassone,  first  phy- 
sician to  the  King  and  Queen,  frequently  spoke  to  me 
of  the  uneasiness  that  the  King's  indifference,  the 
cause  of  which  he  had  been  so  long  in  overcoming, 
had  given  him,  and  appeared  to  me  at  that  time  to 
entertain  no  anxiety  except  of  a  very  different 
description. 

In  the  winter  of  1778  the  King's  permission  for 
the  return  of  Voltaire,  after  an  absence  of  twenty- 
seven  years,  was  obtained.  A  few  strict  persons  con- 
sidered this  concession  on  the  part  of  the  Court  very 
injudicious.  The  Emperor,  on  leaving  France,  passed 
by  the  Chateau  of  Ferney  without  stopping  there.  He 
had  advised  the  Queen  not  to  suffer  Voltaire  to  be 
presented  to  her.  A  lady  belonging  to  the  Court 
learned  the  Emperor's  opinion  on  that  point,  and  re- 
proached him  with  his  want  of  enthusiasm  towards 
the  greatest  genius  of  the  age.  He  replied  that  for 
the  good  of  the  people  he  should  always  endeavour 
to  profit  by  the  knowledge  of  the  philosophers;  but 


128  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

that  his  own  business  of  sovereign  would  always  pre- 
vent his  ranking-  himself  amongst  that  sect.  The  clergy 
also  took  steps  to  hinder  Voltaire's  appearance  at 
Court.  Paris,  however,  carried  to  the  highest  pitch 
the  honours  and  enthusiasm  shown  to  the  great  poet. 

It  was  very  unwise  to  let  Paris  pronounce  with  such 
transport  an  opinion  so  opposite  to  that  of  the  Court. 
This  was  pointed  out  to  the  Queen,  and  she  was  told 
that,  without  conferring  on  Voltaire  the  honour  of  a 
presentation,  she  might  see  him  in  the  State  apart- 
ments. She  was  not  averse  to  following  this  advice, 
and  appeared  embarrassed  solely  about  what  she  should 
say  to  him.  She  was  recommended  to  talk  about  noth- 
ing but  the  "  Henriade,"  "  Merope,"  and  "  Zaira." 
The  Queen  replied  that  she  would  still  consult  a  few 
other  persons  in  whom  she  had  great  confidence.  The 
next  day  she  announced  that  it  was  irrevocably  de- 
cided Voltaire  should  not  see  any  member  of  the  royal 
family, — his  writings  being  too  antagonistic  to  reli- 
gion and  morals.  "  It  is,  however,  strange,"  said  the 
Queen,  "  that  while  we  refuse  to  admit  Voltaire  into 
our  presence  as  the  leader  of  philosophical  writers,  the 
Marechale  de  Mouchy  should  have  presented  to  me 
some  years  ago  Madame  Geoffrin,  who  owed  her  celeb- 
rity to  the  title  of  foster-mother  of  the  philosophers." 

On  the  occasion  of  the  duel  of  the  Comte  d'Artois 
with  the  Prince  de  Bourbon  the  Queen  determined 
privately  to  see  the  Baron  de  Besenval,  who  was  to 
be  one  of  the  witnesses,  in  order  to  communicate  the 
King's  intentions.  I  have  read  with  infinite  pain 
the  manner  in  which  that  simple  fact  is  perverted  in 
the  first  volume  of  M.  de  Besenval's  "  Memoirs."  He 
is  right  in  saying  that  M.  Campan  led  him  through  the 
upper  corridors  of  the  Chateau,  and  introduced  him 
into  an  apartment  unknown  to  him;  but  the  air  of 
romance   given  to  the   interview   is   equally  culpable 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  129 

and  ridiculous.  M.  de  Besenval  says  that  he  found 
himself,  without  knowing  how  he  came  there,  in  an 
apartment  unadorned,  but  very  conveniently  furnished, 
of  the  existence  of  which  he  was  till  then  utterly 
ignorant.  He  was  astonished,  he  adds,  not  that  the 
Queen  should  have  so  many  facilities,  but  that  she 
should  have  ventured  to  procure  them.  Ten  printed 
sheets  of  the  woman  Lamotte's  libels  contain  nothing 
so  injurious  to  the  character  of  Marie  Antoinette  as 
these  lines,  written  by  a  man  whom  she  honoured  by 
undeserved  kindness.  He  could  not  have  had  any  op- 
portunity of  knowing  the  existence  of  the  apartments, 
which  consisted  of  a  very  small  antechamber,  a  bed- 
chamber, and  a  closet.  Ever  since  the  Queen  had 
occupied  her  own  apartment,  these  had  been  appro- 
priated to  her  Majesty's  lady  of  honour  in  cases  of 
illness,  and  were  actually  so  used  when  the  Queen 
was  confined.  It  was  so  important  that  it  should  not 
be  known  the  Queen  had  spoken  to  the  Baron  be- 
fore the  duel  that  she  had  determined  to  go  through 
her  inner  room  into  this  little  apartment,  to  which  M. 
Campan  was  to  conduct  him.  When  men  write  of 
recent  times  they  should  be  scrupulously  exact,  and 
not  indulge  in  exaggerations  or  inventions. 

The  Baron  de  Besenval  appears  mightily  surprised 
at  the  Queen's  sudden  coolness,  and  refers  it  to  the 
fickleness  of  her  disposition.  I  can  explain  the  reason 
for  the  change  by  repeating  what  her  Majesty  said  to 
me  at  the  time;  and  I  will  not  alter  one  of  her  expres- 
sions. Speaking  of  the  strange  presumption  of  men, 
and  the  reserve  with  which  women  ought  always  to 
treat  them,  the  Queen  added  that  age  did  not  deprive 
them  of  the  hope  of  pleasing,  if  they  retained  any 
agreeable  qualities;  that  she  had  treated  the  Baron 
de  Besenval  as  a  brave  Swiss,  agreeable,  polished,  and 
witty,  whose  gray  hairs  had  induced  her  to  look  upon 


130  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

him  as  a  man  whom  she  might  see  without  harm;  but 
that  she  had  been  much  deceived.  Her  Majesty,  after 
having  enjoined  me  to  the  strictest  secrecy,  told  me 
that,  finding  herself  alone  with  the  Baron,  he  began 
to  address  her  with  so  much  gallantry  that  she  was 
thrown  into  the  utmost  astonishment,  and  that  he  was 
mad  enough  to  fall  upon  his  knees,  and  make  her  a 
declaration  in  form.  The  Queen  added  that  she  said 
to  him:  "  Rise,  monsieur;  the  King  shall  be  ignorant 
of  an  offence  which  would  disgrace  you  for  ever;" 
that  the  Baron  grew  pale  and  stammered  apologies; 
that  she  left  her  closet  without  saying  another  word, 
and  that  since  that  time  she  hardly  ever  spoke  to 
him.  "  It  is  delightful  to  have  friends/'  said  the 
Queen;  "but  in  a  situation  like  mine  it  is  some- 
times difficult  for  the  friends  of  our  friends  to 
suit  us." 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1778  Mademoiselle 
d'Eon  obtained  permission  to  return  to  France,  on 
condition  that  she  should  appear  there  in  female  dress. 
The  Comte  de  Vergennes  entreated  my  father,  M. 
Genet,  chief  clerk  of  Foreign  Affairs,  who  had  long 
known  the  Chevalier  d'Eon,  to  receive  that  strange 
personage  at  his  house,  to  guide  and  restrain,  if  possi- 
ble, her  ardent  disposition.  The  Queen,  on  learning 
her  arrival  at  Versailles,  sent  a  footman  to  desire 
my  father  to  bring  her  into  her  presence;  my  father 
thought  it  his  duty  first  to  inform  the  Minister  of  her 
Majesty's  wish.  The  Comte  de  Vergennes  expressed 
himself  pleased  with  my  father's  prudence,  and  de- 
sired that  he  would  accompany  him  to  the  Queen. 
The  Minister  had  a  few  minutes'  audience;  her  Maj- 
esty came  out  of  her  closet  with  him,  and  conde- 
scended to  express  to  my  father  the  regret  she  felt 
at  having  troubled  him  to  no  purpose;  and  added, 
smiling,   that   a   few  words   from   M.   de   Vergennes 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  131 

had  for  ever  cured  her  of  her  curiosity.  The  dis- 
covery in  London  of  the  true  sex  of  this  pretended 
woman  makes  it  probable  that  the  few  words  uttered 
by  the  Minister  contained  a  solution  of  the  enigma. 

The  Chevalier  d'Eon  had  been  useful  in  Russia 
as  a  spy  of  Louis  XV.  While  very  young  he  had 
found  means  to  introduce  himself  at  the  Court  of 
the  Empress  Elizabeth,  and  served  that  sovereign  in 
the  capacity  of  reader.  Resuming  afterwards  his  mili- 
tary dress,  he  served  with  honour  and  was  wounded. 
Appointed  chief  secretary  of  legation,  and  afterwards 
minister  plenipotentiary  at  London,  he  unpardonably 
insulted  Comte  de  Guerchy,  the  ambassador.  The 
official  order  for  the  Chevalier's  return  to  France  was 
actually  delivered  to  the  King's  Council;  but  Louis 
XV.  delayed  the  departure  of  the  courier  who  was  to 
be  its  bearer,  and  sent  off  another  courier  privately, 
who  gave  the  Chevalier  d'Eon  a  letter  in  his  own  writ- 
ing, in  which  he  said,  "  I  know  that  you  have  served 
me  as  effectually  in  the  dress  of  a  woman  as  in  that 
which  you  now  wear.  Resume  it  instantly;  withdraw 
into  the  city;  I  warn  you  that  the  King  yesterday 
signed  an  order  for  your  return  to  France;  you  are 
not  safe  in  your  hotel,  and  you  would  here  find  too 
powerful  enemies."  I  heard  the  Chevalier  d'Eon  re- 
peat the  contents  of  this  letter,  in  which  Louis  XV. 
thus  separated  himself  from  the  King  of  France,  sev- 
eral times  at  my  father's.  The  Chevalier,  or  rather 
the  Chevalier e  d'Eon  had  preserved  all  the  King's  let- 
ters. Messieurs  de  Maurepas  and  de  Vergennes  wished 
to  get  them  out  of  his  hands,  as  they  were  afraid  he 
would  print  them.  This  eccentric  being  had  long 
solicited  permission  to  return  to  France;  but  it  was 
necessary  to  find  a  way  of  sparing  the  family  he  had 
offended  the  insult  they  would  see  in  his  return;  he 
was  therefore  made  to  resume  the  costume  of  that  sex 

Vol.  3  Memoirs — 5 


132  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

to  which  in  France  everything  is  pardoned.  The  de- 
sire to  see  his  native  land  once  more  determined  him 
to  submit  to  the  condition,  but  he  revenged  himself 
by  combining  the  long  train  of  his  gown  and  the  three 
deep  ruffles  on  his  sleeves  with  the  attitude  and  con- 
versation of  a  grenadier,  which  made  him  very  dis- 
agreeable company. 

At  last,  the  event  so  long  desired  by  the  Queen, 
and  by  all  those  who  wished  her  well,  took  place; 
her  Majesty  became  enceinte.  The  King  was  in  ec- 
stasies. Never  was  there  a  more  united  or  happier 
couple.  The  disposition  of  Louis  XVI.  entirely 
altered,  and  became  prepossessing  and  conciliatory; 
and  the  Queen  was  amply  compensated  for  the  uneasi- 
ness which  the  King's  indifference  during  the  early 
part  of  their  union  had  caused  her. 

The  summer  of  1778  was  extremely  hot.  July 
and  August  passed,  but  the  air  was  not  cooled  by  a 
single  storm.  The  Queen  spent  whole  days  in  close 
rooms,  and  could  not  sleep  until  she  had  breathed 
the  fresh  night  air,  walking  with  the  Princesses  and 
her  brothers  upon  the  terrace  under  her  apartments. 
These  promenades  at  first  gave  rise  to  no  remark; 
but  it  occurred  to  some  of  the  party  to  enjoy  the 
music  of  wind  instruments  during  these  fine  summer 
nights.  The  musicians  belonging  to  the  chapel  were 
ordered  to  perform  pieces  suited  to  instruments  of 
that  description,  upon  steps  constructed  in  the  middle 
of  the  garden.  The  Queen,  seated  on  one  of  the 
terrace  benches,  enjoyed  the  effect  of  this  music, 
surrounded  by  all  the  royal  family  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  King,  who  joined  them  but  twice,  disliking 
to  change  his  hour  of  going  to  bed. 

Nothing  could  be  more  innocent  than  these  parties; 
yet  Paris,  France,  nay,  all  Europe,  were  soon  canvass- 
ing them  in  a  manner  most  disadvantageous  to  the 


MARIE  "ANTOINETTE  133 

reputation  of  Marie  Antoinette.  It  is  true  that  all 
the  inhabitants  of  Versailles  enjoyed  these  serenades, 
and  that  there  was  a  crowd  near  the  spot  from  eleven 
at  night  until  two  or  three  in  the  morning.  The 
windows  of  the  ground  floor  occupied  by  Monsieur 
and  Madame  were  kept  open,  and  the  terrace  was 
perfectly  well  lighted  by  the  numerous  wax  candles 
burning  in  the  two  apartments.  Lamps  were  like- 
wise placed  in  the  garden,  and  the  lights  of  the  or- 
chestra illuminated  the  rest  of  the  place. 

I  do  not  know  whether  a  few  incautious  women 
might  not  have  ventured  farther,  and  wandered  to 
the  bottom  of  the  park;  it  may  have  been  so;  but 
the  Queen,  Madame,  and  the  Comtesse  d'Artois  were 
always  arm-in-arm,  and  never  left  the  terrace.  The 
Princesses  were  not  remarkable  when  seated  on  the 
benches,  being  dressed  in  cambric  muslin  gowns,  with 
large  straw  hats  and  muslin  veils,  a  costume  univer- 
sally adopted  by  women  at  that  time;  but  when 
standing  up  their  different  figures  always  distin- 
guished them;  and  the  persons  present  stood  on  one 
side  to  let  them  pass.  It  is  true  that  when  they 
seated  themselves  upon  the  benches  private  individ- 
uals would  sometimes,  to  their  great  amusement,  sit 
down  by  their  side. 

A  young  clerk  in  the  War  Department,  either  not 
knowing  or  pretending  not  to  know  the  Queen,  spoke 
to  her  of  the  beauty  of  the  night,  and  the  delightful 
effect  of  the  music.  The  Queen,  fancying  she  was 
not  recognised,  amused  herself  by  keeping  up  the 
incognito,  and  they  talked  of  several  private  families 
of  Versailles,  consisting  of  persons  belonging  to  the 
King's  household  or  her  own.  After  a  few  minutes 
the  Queen  and  Princesses  rose  to  walk,  and  on  leav- 
ing the  bench  curtsied  to  the  clerk.  The  young  man 
knowing,  or  having  subsequently  discovered,  that  he 


134  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

had  been  conversing  with  the  Queen,  boasted  of  it  in 
his  office.  He  was  merely  desired  to  hold  his  tongue; 
and  so  little  attention  did  he  excite  that  the  Revo- 
lution found  him  still  only  a  clerk. 

Another  evening  one  of  Monsieur's  body-guard 
seated  himself  near  the  Princesses,  and,  knowing  them, 
left  the  place  where  he  was  sitting,  and  placed  himself 
before  the  Queen,  to  tell  her  that  he  was  very  for- 
tunate in  being  able  to  seize  an  opportunity  of  implor- 
ing the  kindness  of  his  sovereign;  that  he  was  "so- 
liciting at  Court  " — at  the  word  soliciting  the  Queen 
and  Princesses  rose  hastily  and  withdrew  into  Ma- 
dame's  apartment.  I  was  at  the  Queen's  residence 
that  day.  She  talked  of  this  little  occurrence  all  the 
time  of  her  concher;  though  she  only  complained  that 
one  of  Monsieur's  guards  should  have  had  the  ef- 
frontery to  speak  to  her.  Her  Majesty  added  that  he 
ought  to  have  respected  her  incognito;  and  that  that 
was  not  the  place  where  he  should  have  ventured  to 
make  a  request.  Madame  had  recognised  him,  and 
talked  of  making  a  complaint  to  his  captain;  the 
Queen  opposed  it,  attributing  his  error  to  his  igno- 
rance and  provincial  origin. 

The  most  scandalous  libels  were  based  on  these  two 
insignificant  occurrences,  which  I  have  related  with 
scrupulous  exactness.  Nothing  could  be  more  false 
than  those  calumnies.  It  must  be  confessed,  however, 
that  such  meetings  were  liable  to  ill  consequences.  I 
ventured  to  say  as  much  to  the  Queen,  and  informed 
her  that  one  evening,  when  her  Majesty  beckoned  to 
me  to  go  and  speak  to  her,  I  thought  I  recognised  on 
the  bench  on  which  she  was  sitting  two  women  deeply 
veiled,  and  keeping  profound  silence;  that  those 
women  were  the  Comtesse  du  Barry  and  her  sister-in- 
law;  and  that  my  suspicions  were  confirmed,  when, 
at  a  few  paces  from  the  seat,  and  nearer  to  her  Maj- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  135 

esty,  I  met  a  tall  footman  belonging  to  Madame  du 
Barry,  whom  I  had  seen  in  her  service  all  the  time 
she  resided  at  Court. 

My  advice  was  disregarded.  Misled  by  the  pleasure 
she  found  in  these  promenades,  and  secure  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  blameless  conduct,  the  Queen  would  not 
see  the  lamentable  results  which  must  necessarily  fol- 
low. This  was  very  unfortunate;  for  besides  the  mor- 
tifications they  brought  upon  her,  it  is  highly  probable 
that  they  prompted  the  vile  plot  which  gave  rise  to 
the  Cardinal  de  Rohan's  fatal  error. 

Having  enjoyed  these  evening  promenades  about  a 
month,  the  Queen  ordered  a  private  concert  within 
the  colonnade  which  contained  the  group  of  Pluto 
and  Proserpine.  Sentinels  were  placed  at  all  the 
entrances,  and  ordered  to  admit  within  the  colonnade 
only  such  persons  as  should  produce  tickets  signed  by 
my  father-in-law.  A  fine  concert  was  performed  there 
by  the  musicians  of  the  chapel  and  the  female  musi- 
cians belonging  to  the  Queen's  chamber.  The  Queen 
went  with  Mesdames  de  Polignac,  de  Chalon,  and 
d'Andlau,  and  Messieurs  de  Polignac,  de  Coigny,  de 
Besenval,  and  de  Vaudreuil;  there  were  also  a  few 
equerries  present.  Her  Majesty  gave  me  permission 
to  attend  the  concert  with  some  of  my  female  rela- 
tions. There  was  no  music  upon  the  terrace.  The 
crowd  of  inquisitive  people,  whom  the  sentinels  kept 
at  a  distance  from  the  enclosure  of  the  colonnade, 
went  away  highly  discontented;  the  small  number  of 
persons  admitted  no  doubt  occasioned  jealousy,  and 
gave  rise  to  offensive  comments  which  were  caught  up 
by  the  public  with  avidity.  I  do  not  pretend  to  apolo- 
gise for  the  kind  of  amusements  with  which  the  Queen 
indulged  herself  during  this  and  the  following  sum- 
mer; the  consequences  were  so  lamentable  that  the 
error  was  no  doubt  very  great;  but  what  I  have  said 


136  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

respecting-  the  character  of  these  promenades  may  be 
relied  on  as  true. 

When  the  season  for  evening  walks  was  at  an  end, 
odious  couplets  were  circulated  in  Paris;  the  Queen 
was  treated  in  them  in  the  most  insulting  manner; 
her  situation  ranked  among  her  enemies  persons  at- 
tached to  the  only  prince  who  for  several  years  had 
appeared  likely  to  give  heirs  to  the  crown.  People 
uttered  the  most  inconsiderate  language;  and  those 
improper  conversations  took  place  in  societies  wherein 
the  imminent  danger  of  violating  to  so  criminal  an 
extent  both  truth  and  the  respect  due  to  sovereigns 
ought  to  have  been  better  understood.  A  few  days 
before  the  Queen's  confinement  a  whole  volume  of 
manuscript  songs,  concerning  her  and  all  the  ladies 
about  her  remarkable  for  rank  or  station,  was  thrown 
down  in  the  oeil-de-bccuf.  This  manuscript  was  im- 
mediately put  into  the  hands  of  the  King,  who  was 
highly  incensed  at  it,  and  said  that  he  had  himself 
been  at  those  promenades;  that  he  had  seen  nothing 
connected  with  them  but  what  was  perfectly  harm- 
less; that  such  songs  would  disturb  the  harmony  of 
twenty  families  in  the  Court  and  city;  that  it  was  a 
capital  crime  to  have  made  any  against  the  Queen 
herself;  and  that  he  wished  the  author  of  the  infa- 
mous libels  to  be  discovered  and  punished.  A  fort- 
night afterwards  it  was  known  publicly  that  the  verses 
were  by  M.  Champcenetz  de  Riquebourg,  who  was  not 
even  reprimanded. 

I  knew  for  a  certainty  that  the  King  spoke  to  M. 
de  Maurepas,  before  two  of  his  most  confidential  serv- 
ants, respecting  the  risk  which  he  saw  the  Queen  ran 
from  these  night  walks  upon  the  terrace  of  Versailles, 
which  the  public  ventured  to  censure  thus  openly,  and 
that  the  old  minister  had  the  cruelty  to  advise  that  she 
should  be  suffered  to  go  on;  she  possessed  talent;  her 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  137 

friends  were  very  ambitious,  and  longed  to  see  her 
take  a  part  in  public  affairs;  and  to  let  her  acquire 
the  reputation  of  levity  would  do  no  harm.  M.  de 
Vergennes  was  as  hostile  to  the  Queen's  influence  as 
M.  de  Maurepas.  It  may  therefore  be  fairly  pre- 
sumed, since  the  Prime  Minister  durst  point  out  to 
his  King  an  advantage  to  be  gained  by  the  Queen's 
discrediting  herself,  that  he  and  M.  de  Vergennes 
employed  all  means  within  the  reach  of  powerful 
ministers  in  order  to  ruin  her  in  the  opinion  of  the 
public. 

The  Queen's  accouchement  approached;  Te  Dennis 
were  sung  and  prayers  offered  up  in  all  the  cathe- 
drals. On  the  nth  of  December,  1778,  the  royal 
family,  the  Princes  of  the  blood,  and  the  great  offi- 
cers of  State  passed  the  night  in  the  rooms  adjoining 
the  Queen's  bedchamber.  Madame,  the  King's  daugh- 
ter, came  into  the  world  before  mid-day  on  the  19th 
of  December.  The  etiquette  of  allowing  all  persons 
indiscriminately  to  enter  at  the  moment  of  the  deliv- 
ery of  a  queen  was  observed  with  such  exaggeration 
that  when  the  accoucheur  said  aloud,  "  La  Reine  va 
s'accoucher,"  the  persons  who  poured  into  the  chamber 
were  so  numerous  that  the  rush  nearly  destroyed  the 
Queen.  During  the  night  the  King  had  taken  the 
precaution  to  have  the  enormous  tapestry  screens 
which  surrounded  her  Majesty's  bed  secured  with 
cords;  but  for  this  they  certainly  would  have  been 
thrown  down  upon  her.  It  was  impossible  to  move 
about  the  chamber,  which  was  filled  with  so  motley 
a  crowd  that  one  might  have  fancied  himself  in  some 
place  of  public  amusement.  Two  Savoyards  got  upon 
the  furniture  for  a  better  sight  of  the  Queen,  who  was 
placed  opposite  the  fireplace. 

The  noise  and  the  sex  of  the  infant,  with  which 
the  Queen  was  made  acquainted  by  a  signal  previ- 


138  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

ously  agreed  on,  as  it  is  said,  with  the  Princesse  de 
Lamballe,  or  some  error  of  the  accoucheur,  brought 
on  symptoms  which  threatened  fatal  consequences; 
the  accoucheur  exclaimed,  "  Give  her  air — warm 
water — she  must  be  bled  in  the  foot !  "  The  win- 
dows were  stopped  up;  the  King  opened  them  with 
a  strength  which  his  affection  for  the  Queen  gave  him 
at  the  moment.  They  were  of  great  height  and  pasted 
over  with  strips  of  paper  all  round.  The  basin  of 
hot  water  not  being  brought  quickly  enough,  the 
accoucheur  desired  the  chief  surgeon  to  use  his  lancet 
without  waiting  for  it.  He  did  so;  the  blood  streamed 
out  freely,  and  the  Queen  opened  her  eyes.  The  Prin- 
cesse de  Lamballe  was  carried  through  the  crowd  in 
a  state  of  insensibility.  The  valets  de  chambre  and 
pages  dragged  out  by  the  collar  such  inconsiderate 
persons  as  would  not  leave  the  room.  This  cruel 
custom  was  abolished  afterwards.  The  Princes  of 
the  family,  the  Princes  of  the  blood,  the  chancellor, 
and  the  ministers  are  surely  sufficient  to  attest  the 
legitimacy  of  an  hereditary  prince.  The  Queen  was 
snatched  from  the  very  jaws  of  death;  she  was  not 
conscious  of  having  been  bled,  and  on  being  replaced 
in  bed  asked  why  she  had  a  linen  bandage  upon  her 
foot. 

The  delight  which  succeeded  the  moment  of  fear 
was  equally  lively  and  sincere.  We  were  all  embrac- 
ing each  other,  and  shedding  tears  of  joy.  The  Comte 
d'Esterhazy  and  the  Prince  de  Poix,  to  whom  I  was 
the  first  to  announce  that  the  Queen  was  restored  to 
life,  embraced  me  in  the  midst  of  the  cabinet  of  nobles. 
We  little  imagined,  in  our  happiness  at  her  escape  from 
death,  for  how  much  more  terrible  a  fate  our  beloved 
Princess  was  reserved. 


CHAPTER  X 

DURING  the  alarm  for  the  life  of  the  Queen, 
regret  at  not  possessing  an  heir  to  the  throne 
was  not  even  thought  of.  The  King  himself 
was  wholly  occupied  with  the  care  of  preserving  an 
adored  wife.  The  young  Princess  was  presented  to 
her  mother.  "  Poor  little  one,"  said  the  Queen,  "  you 
were  not  wished  for,  but  you  are  not  on  that  account 
less  dear  to  me.  A  son  would  have  been  rather  the 
property  of  the  State.  You  shall  be  mine;  you  shall 
have  my  undivided  care,  shall  share  all  my  happiness, 
and  console  me  in  all  my  troubles." 

The  King  despatched  a  courier  to  Paris,  and  wrote 
letters  himself  to  Vienna,  by  the  Queen's  bedside; 
and  part  of  the  rejoicings  ordered  took  place  in  the 
capital. 

A  great  number  of  attendants  watched  near  the 
Queen  during  the  first  nights  of  her  confinement. 
This  custom  distressed  her;  she  knew  how  to  feel  for 
others,  and  ordered  large  armchairs  for  her  women, 
the  backs  of  which  were  capable  of  being  let  down 
by  springs,  and  which  served  perfectly  well  instead  of 
beds. 

M.  de  Lassone,  the  chief  physician,  the  chief  sur- 
geon, the  chief  apothecary,  the  principal  officers  of 
the  buttery,  etc.,  were  likewise  nine  nights  without 
going  to  bed.  The  royal  children  were  watched  for  a 
long  time,  and  one  of  the  women  on  duty  remained, 
nightly,  up  and  dressed,  during  the  first  three  years 
from  their  birth. 

139 


i4o  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  Queen  made  her  entry  into  Paris  for  the 
churching.  One  hundred  maidens  were  portioned 
and  married  at  Notre-Dame.  There  were  few  popu- 
lar acclamations,  but  her  Majesty  was  perfectly  well 
received  at  the  Opera. 

A  few  days  after  the  Queen's  recovery  from  her 
confinement,  the  Cure  of  the  Magdelaine  de  la  Cite  at 
Paris  wrote  to  M.  Campan  and  requested  a  private 
interview  with  him;  it  was  to  desire  he  would  deliver 
into  the  hands  of  the  Queen  a  little  box  containing 
her  wedding  ring,  with  this  note  written  by  the  Cure: 
"  I  have  received  under  the  seal  of  confession  the  ring 
which  I  send  to  your  Majesty;  with  an  avowal  that  it 
was  stolen  from  you  in  1771,  in  order  to  be  used  in 
sorceries,  to  prevent  your  having  any  children."  On 
seeing  her  ring  again  the  Queen  said  that  she  had  in 
fact  lost  it  about  seven  years  before,  while  washing 
her  hands,  and  that  she  had  resolved  to  use  no  en- 
deavour to  discover  the  superstitious  woman  who  had 
done  her  the  injury. 

The  Queen's  attachment  to  the  Comtesse  Jules  in- 
creased every  day;  she  went  frequently  to  her  house 
at  Paris,  and  even  took  up  her  own  abode  at  the  Cha- 
teau de  la  Muette  to  be  nearer  during  her  confine- 
ment. She  married  Mademoiselle  de  Polignac,  when 
scarcely  thirteen  years  of  age,  to  M.  de  Grammont, 
who,  on  account  of  this  marriage,  was  made  Due  de 
Guiche,  and  captain  of  the  King's  Guards,  in  rever- 
sion after  the  Due  de  Villeroi.  The  Duchesse  de 
Civrac,  Madame  Victoire's  dame  d'honneur,  had  been 
promised  the  place  for  the  Due  de  Lorges,  her 
son.  The  number  of  discontented  families  at  Court 
increased. 

The  title  of  favourite  was  too  openly  given  to  the 
Comtesse  Jules  by  her  friends.  The  lot  of  the  favour- 
ite of  a  queen  is  not,  in  France,  a  happy  one;  the 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  141 

favourites  of  kings  are  treated,  out  of  gallantry,  with 
truch  greater  indulgence. 

A  short  time  after  the  birth  of  Madame  the  Queen 
became  again  enceinte;  she  had  mentioned  it  only  to 
the  King,  to  her  physician,  and  to  a  few  persons  hon- 
oured with  her  intimate  confidence,  when,  having  over- 
exerted her  strength  in  pulling  up  one  of  the  glasses 
of  her  carriage,  she  felt  that  she  had  hurt  herself,  and 
eight  days  afterwards  she  miscarried.  The  King 
spent  the  whole  morning  at  her  bedside,  consoling 
her,  and  manifesting  the  tenderest  concern  for  her. 
The  Queen  wept  exceedingly;  the  King  took  her 
affectionately  in  his  arms,  and  mingled  his  tears  with 
hers.  The  King  enjoined  silence  among  the  small 
number  of  persons  who  were  informed  of  this  unfor- 
tunate occurrence;  and  it  remained  generally  un- 
known. These  particulars  furnish  an  accurate  idea  of 
the  manner  in  which  this  august  couple  lived  together. 

The  Empress  Maria  Theresa  did  not  enjoy  the  hap- 
piness of  seeing  her  daughter  give  an  heir  to  the 
crown  of  France.  That  illustrious  Princess  died  at 
the  close  of  1780,  after  having  proved  by  her  example 
that,  as  in  the  instance  of  Queen  Blanche,  the  talents 
of  a  sovereign  might  be  blended  with  the  virtues  of 
a  pious  princess.  The  King  was  deeply  affected  at 
the  death  of  the  Empress;  and  on  the  arrival  of  the 
courier  from  Vienna  said  that  he  could  not  bring  him- 
self to  afflict  the  Queen  by  informing  her  of  an  event 
which  grieved  even  him  so  much.  His  Majesty 
thought  the  Abbe  de  Vermond,  who  had  possessed 
the  confidence  of  Maria  Theresa  during  his  stay  at 
Vienna,  the  most  proper  person  to  discharge  this 
painful  duty.  He  sent  his  first  valet  de  chambre,  M. 
de  Chamilly,  to  the  Abbe  on  the  evening  of  the  day 
he  received  the  despatches  from  Vienna,  to  order  him 
to  come  the  next  day  to  the  Queen  before  her  break- 


142  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

fast  hour,  to  acquit  himself  discreetly  of  the  afflicting 
commission  with  which  he  was  charged,  and  to  let  his 
Majesty  know  the  moment  of  his  entering  the  Queen's 
chamber.  It  was  the  King's  intention  to  be  there 
precisely  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  him,  and  he  was 
punctual  to  his  time;  he  was  announced;  the  Abbe 
came  out;  and  his  Majesty  said  to  him,  as  he  drew 
up  at  the  door  to  let  him  pass,  "  I  thank  you,  Mon- 
sieur l'Abbe,  for  the  service  you  have  just  done  me." 
This  was  the  only  time  during  nineteen  years  that  the 
King  spoke  to  him. 

Within  an  hour  after  learning  the  event  the  Queen 
put  on  temporary  mourning,  while  waiting  until  her 
Court  mourning  should  be  ready;  she  kept  herself 
shut  up  in  her  apartments  for  several  days;  went  out 
only  to  mass;  saw  none  but  the  royal  family;  and 
received  none  but  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe  and  the 
Duchesse  de  Polignac.  She  talked  incessantly  of 
the  courage,  the  misfortunes,  the  successes,  and  the 
virtues  of  her  mother.  The  shroud  and  dress  in 
which  Maria  Theresa  was  to  be  buried,  made  entirely 
by  her  own  hands,  were  found  ready  prepared  in  one 
of  her  closets.  She  often  regretted  that  the  numer- 
ous duties  of  her  august  mother  had  prevented  her 
from  watching  in  person  over  the  education  of  her 
daughters;  and  modestly  said  that  she  herself  would 
have  been  more  worthy  if  she  had  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  receive  lessons  directly  from  a  sovereign  so 
enlightened  and  so  deserving  of  admiration. 

The  Queen  told  me  one  day  that  her  mother  was 
left  a  widow  at  an  age  when  her  beauty  was  yet 
striking;  that  she  was  secretly  informed  of  a  plot 
laid  by  her  three  principal  ministers  to  make  them- 
selves agreeable  to  her;  of  a  compact  made  between 
them,  that  the  losers  should  not  feel  any  jealousy 
towards  him  who  should  be  fortunate  enough  to  gain 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  143 

his  sovereign's  heart;  and  that  they  had  sworn  that 
the  successful  one  should  be  always  the  friend  of  the 
other  two.  The  Empress  being  assured  of  this 
scheme,  one  day  after  the  breaking  up  of  the  council 
over  which  she  had  presided,  turned  the  conversation 
upon  the  subject  of  female  sovereigns,  and  the  duties 
of  their  sex  and  rank;  and  then  applying  her  general 
reflections  to  herself  in  particular,  told  them  that  she 
hoped  to  guard  herself  all  her  life  against  weaknesses 
of  the  heart;  but  that  if  ever  an  irresistible  feeling 
should  make  her  alter  her  resolution,  it  should  be 
only  in  favour  of  a  man  proof  against  ambition,  not 
engaged  in  State  affairs,  but  attached  only  to  a  pri- 
vate life  and  its  calm  enjoyments, — in  a  word,  if  her 
heart  should  betray  her  so  far  as  to  lead  her  to  love 
a  man  invested  with  any  important  office,  from  the 
moment  he  should  discover  her  sentiments  he  would 
forfeit  his  place  and  his  influence  with  the  public. 
This  was  sufficient;  the  three  ministers,  more  ambi- 
tious than  amorous,  gave  up  their  projects  for 
ever. 

On  the  22d  of  October,  1781,  the  Queen  gave 
birth  to  a  Dauphin.  So  deep  a  silence  prevailed 
in  the  room  that  the  Queen  thought  her  child  was 
a  daughter;  but  after  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals  had 
declared  the  sex  of  the  infant,  the  King  went  up  to 
the  Queen's  bed,  and  said  to  her,  "  Madame,  you  have 
fulfilled  my  wishes  and  those  of  France :  you  are  the 
mother  of  a  Dauphin."  The  King's  joy  was  bound- 
less; tears  streamed  from  his  eyes;  he  gave  his  hand 
to  every  one  present;  and  his  happiness  carried  away 
his  habitual  reserve.  Cheerful  and  affable,  he  was 
incessantly  taking  occasion  to  introduce  the  words, 
"  my  son,"  or  "  the  Dauphin."  As  soon  as  the  Queen 
was  in  bed,  she  wished  to  see  the  long-looked-for 
infant.     The  Princesse  de  Guemenee  brought  him  to 


144  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

her.  The  Queen  said  there  was  no  need  for  com- 
mending him  to  the  Princess,  but  in  order  to  enable 
her  to  attend  to  him  more  freely,  she  would  herself 
share  the  care  of  the  education  of  her  daughter. 
When  the  Dauphin  was  settled  in  his  apartment, 
he  received  the  customary  homages  and  visits.  The 
Due  d'Angouleme,  meeting  his  father  at  the  entrance 
of  the  Dauphin's  apartment,  said  to  him,  "  Oh,  papa! 
how  little  my  cousin  is!  "  "  The  day  will  come  when 
you  will  think  him  great  enough,  my  dear,"  answered 
the  Prince,  almost  involuntarily. 

The  birth  of  the  Dauphin  appeared  to  give  joy  to 
all  classes.  Men  stopped  one  another  in  the  streets, 
spoke  without  being  acquainted,  and  those  who  were 
acquainted  embraced  each  other.  In  the  birth  of  a 
legitimate  heir  to  the  sovereign  every  man  beholds  a 
pledge  of  prosperity  and  tranquillity. 

The  rejoicings  were  splendid  and  ingenious.  The 
artificers  and  tradesmen  of  Paris  spent  considerable 
sums  in  order  to  go  to  Versailles  in  a  body,  with  their 
various  insignia.  Almost  every  troop  had  music  with 
it.  When  they  arrived  at  the  court  of  the  palace, 
they  there  arranged  themselves  so  as  to  present  a 
most  interesting  living  picture.  Chimney-sweepers, 
quite  as  well  dressed  as  those  that  appear  upon  the 
stage,  carried  an  ornamented  chimney,  at  the  top  of 
which  was  perched  one  of  the  smallest  of  their  fra- 
ternity. The  chairmen  carried  a  sedan  highly  gilt, 
in  which  were  to  be  seen  a  handsome  nurse  and  a 
little  Dauphin.  The  butchers  made  their  appearance 
with  their  fat  ox.  Cooks,  masons,  blacksmiths,  all 
trades  were  on  the  alert.  The  smiths  hammered 
away  upon  an  anvil,  the  shoemakers  finished  off  a 
little  pair  of  boots  for  the  Dauphin,  and  the  tailors 
a  little  suit  of  the  uniform  of  his  regiment.  The 
King  remained  a  long  time  upon  a  balcony  to  enjoy 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  145 

the  sight.  The  whole  Court  was  delighted  with  it. 
So  general  was  the  enthusiasm  that  (the  police  not 
having  carefully  examined  the  procession)  the  grave- 
diggers  had  the  imprudence  to  send  their  deputation 
also,  with  the  emblematic  devices  of  their  ill-omened 
occupation.  They  were  met  by  the  Princesse  Sophie, 
the  King's  aunt,  who  was  thrilled  with  horror  at  the 
sight,  and  entreated  the  King  to  have  the  audacious 
fellows  driven  out  of  the  procession,  which  was  then 
drawing  up  on  the  terrace. 

The  dames  de  la  halle  came  to  congratulate  the 
Queen,  and  were  received  with  the  suitable  ceremonies. 
Fifty  of  them  appeared  dressed  in  black  silk  gowns, 
the  established  full  dress  of  their  order,  and  almost 
all  wore  diamonds.  The  Princesse  de  Chimay  went 
to  the  door  of  the  Queen's  bedroom  to  receive  three 
of  these  ladies,  who  were  led  up  to  the  Queen's  bed. 
One  of  them  addressed  her  Majesty  in  a  speech 
written  by  M.  de  la  Harpe.  It  was  set  down  on  the 
inside  of  a  fan,  to  which  the  speaker  repeatedly 
referred,  but  without  any  embarrassment.  She  was 
handsome,  and  had  a  remarkably  fine  voice.  The 
Queen  was  affected  by  the  address,  and  answered  it 
with  great  affability, — wishing  a  distinction  to  be 
made  between  these  women  and  the  poissardes,  who 
always  left  a  disagreeable  impression  on  her  mind. 
The  King  ordered  a  substantial  repast  for  all  these 
women.  One  of  his  Majesty's  maitres  d' hotel,  wear- 
ing his  hat,  sat  as  president  and  did  the  honours  of 
the  table.  The  public  were  admitted,,  and  numbers  of 
people  had  the  curiosity  to  go. 

The  Gardes-du-Corps  obtained  the  King's  permis- 
sion to  give  the  Queen  a  dress  ball  in  the  great  hall 
of  the  Opera  at  Versailles.  Her  Majesty  opened  the 
ball  in  a  minuet  with  a  private  selected  by  the  corps, 
to  whom  the  King  granted  the  baton  of  an  exempt. 


146  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  fete  was  most  splendid.     All  then  was  joy,  hap- 
piness, and  peace. 

The  Dauphin  was  a  year  old  when  the  Prince  de 
Guemenee's  bankruptcy  compelled  the  Princess,  his 
wife,  who  was  governess  to  the  children  of  France,  to 
resign  her  situation. 

The  Queen  was  at  La  Muette  for  the  inoculation  of 
her  daughter.  She  sent  for  me,  and  condescended  to 
say  she  wished  to  converse  with  me  about  a  scheme 
which  delighted  her,  but  in  the  execution  of  which 
she  foresaw  some  inconveniences.  Her  plan  was  to 
appoint  the  Duchesse  de  Polignac  to  the  office  lately 
held  by  the  Princesse  de  Guemenee.  She  saw  with 
extreme  pleasure  the  facilities  which  this  appointment 
would  give  her  for  superintending  the  education  of 
her  children,  without  running  any  risk  of  hurting 
the  pride  of  the  governess;  and  that  it  would  bring 
together  the  objects  of  her  warmest  affections, — 
her  children  and  her  friend.  "  The  friends  of  the 
Duchesse  de  Polignac,"  continued  the  Queen,  "  will  be 
gratified  by  the  splendour  and  importance  conferred 
by  the  employment.  As  to  the  Duchess,  I  know  her; 
the  place  by  no  means  suits  her  simple  and  quiet 
habits,  nor  the  sort  of  indolence  of  her  disposition. 
She  will  give  me  the  greatest  possible  proof  of  her 
devotion  if  she  yields  to  my  wish."  The  Queen  also 
spoke  of  the  Princesse  de  Chimay  and  the  Duchesse 
de  Duras,  whom  the  public  pointed  out  as  fit  for  the 
post ;  but  she  thought  the  Princesse  de  Chimay's  piety 
too  rigid;  and  as  to  the  Duchesse  de  Duras,  her  wit 
and  learning  quite  frightened  her.  What  the  Queen 
dreaded  as  the  consequence  of  her  selection  of  the 
Duchesse  de  Polignac  was  principally  the  jealousy  of 
the  courtiers;  but  she  showed  so  lively  a  desire  to  see 
her  scheme  executed  that  I  had  no  doubt  she  would 
soon  set  at  naught  all  the  obstacles  she  discovered. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  147 

I  was  not  mistaken;  a  few  days  afterwards  the 
Duchess  was  appointed  governess. 

The  Queen's  object  in  sending  for  me  was  no  doubt 
to  furnish  me  with  the  means  of  explaining  the  feel- 
ings which  induced  her  to  prefer  a  governess  disposed 
by  friendship  to  suffer  her  to  enjoy  all  the  privileges 
of  a  mother.  Her  Majesty  knew  that  I  saw  a  great 
deal  of  company. 

The  Queen  frequently  dined  with  the  Duchess  after 
having  been  present  at  the  King's  private  dinner. 
Sixty-one  thousand  francs  were  therefore  added  to 
the  salary  of  the  governess  as  a  compensation  for  this 
increase  of  expense. 

The  Queen  was  tired  of  the  excursions  to  Marly, 
and  had  no  great  difficulty  in  setting  the  King  against 
them.  He  did  not  like  the  expense  of  them,  for 
everybody  was  entertained  there  gratis.  Louis  XIV. 
had  established  a  kind  of  parade  upon  these  excur- 
sions, differing  from  that  of  Versailles,  but  still  more 
annoying.  Card  and  supper  parties  occurred  every 
day,  and  required  much  dress.  On  Sundays  and  holi- 
days the  fountains  played,  the  people  were  admitted 
into  the  gardens,  and  there  was  as  great  a  crowd  as 
at  the  fetes  of  St.  Cloud. 

Every  age  has  its  peculiar  colouring;  Marly  showed 
that  of  Louis  XIV.  even  more  than  Versailles. 
Everything  in  the  former  place  appeared  to  have 
been  produced  by  the  magic  power  of  a  fairy's  wand. 
Not  the  slightest  trace  of  all  this  splendour  remains; 
the  revolutionary  spoilers  even  tore  'up  the  pipes 
which  served  to  supply  the  fountains.  Perhaps  a 
brief  description  of  this  palace  and  the  usages  estab- 
lished there  by  Louis  XIV.  may  be  acceptable. 

The  very  extensive  gardens  of  Marly  ascended 
almost  imperceptibly  to  the  Pavilion  of  the  Sun, 
which  was  occupied  only  by  the  King  and  his  family. 


148  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  pavilions  of  the  twelve  zodiacal  signs  bounded 
the  two  sides  of  the  lawn.  They  were  connected  by 
bowers  impervious  to  the  rays  of  the  sun.  The 
pavilions  nearest  to  that  of  the  sun  were  reserved  for 
the  Princes  of  the  blood  and  the  ministers;  the  rest 
were  occupied  by  persons  holding  superior  offices  at 
Court,  or  invited  to  stay  at  Marly.  Each  pavilion 
was  named  after  fresco  paintings,  which  covered  its 
walls,  and  which  had  been  executed  by  the  most 
celebrated  artists  of  the  age  of  Louis  XIV.  On  a 
line  with  the  upper  pavilion  there  was  on  the  left 
a  chapel;  on  the  right  a  pavilion  called  La  Perspec- 
tive, which  concealed  a  long  suite  of  offices,  containing 
a  hundred  lodging-rooms  intended  for  the  persons  be- 
longing to  the  service  of  the  Court,  kitchens,  and  spa- 
cious dining-rooms,  in  which  more  than  thirty  tables 
were  splendidly  laid  out. 

During  half  of  Louis  XV.'s  reign  the  ladies  still 
wore  the  habit  de  cour  de  Marly,  so  named  by  Louis 
XIV.,  and  which  differed  little  from  that  devised  for 
Versailles.  The  French  gown,  gathered  in  the  back, 
and  with  great  hoops,  replaced  this  dress,  and  con- 
tinued to  be  worn  till  the  end  of  the  reign  of  Louis 
XVI.  The  diamonds,  feathers,  rouge,  and  embroi- 
dered stuffs  spangled  with  gold,  effaced  all  trace  of 
a  rural  residence;  but  the  people  loved  to  see  the 
splendour  of  their  sovereign  and  a  brilliant  Court  glit- 
tering in  the  shades  of  the  woods. 

After  dinner,  and  before  the  hour  for  cards,  the 
Queen,  the  Princesses,  and  their  ladies,  paraded  among 
the  clumps  of  trees,  in  little  carriages,  beneath  cano- 
pies richly  embroidered  with  gold,  drawn  by  men  in 
the  King's  livery.  The  trees  planted  by  Louis  XIV. 
were  of  prodigious  height,  which,  however,  was  sur- 
passed in  several  of  the  groups  by  fountains  of  the 
clearest   water;   while,   among  others,   cascades   over 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  149 

white  marble,  the  waters  of  which,  met  by  the  sun- 
beams, looked  like  draperies  of  silver  gauze,  formed 
a  contrast  to  the  solemn  darkness  of  the  groves. 

In  the  evening  nothing  more  was  necessary  for  any 
well-dressed  man  to  procure  admission  to  the  Queen's 
card  parties  than  to  be  named  and  presented,  by  some 
officer  of  the  Court,  to  the  gentleman  usher  of  the 
card-room.  This  room,  which  was  very  large,  and  of 
octagonal  shape,  rose  to  the  top  of  the  Italian  roof, 
and  terminated  in  a  cupola  furnished  with  balconies, 
in  which  ladies  who  had  not  been  presented  easily 
obtained  leave  to  place  themselves,  and  enjoy  the 
sight  of  the  brilliant  assemblage. 

Though  not  of  the  number  of  persons  belonging  to 
the  Court,  gentlemen  admitted  into  this  salon  might 
request  one  of  the  ladies  seated  with  the  Queen  at 
lansquenet  or  faro  to  bet  upon  her  cards  with  such 
gold  or  notes  as  they  presented  to  her.  Rich  peo- 
ple and  the  gamblers  of  Paris  did  not  miss  one  of  the 
evenings  at  the  Marly  salon,  and  there  were  always 
considerable  sums  won  and  lost.  Louis  XVI.  hated 
high  play,  and  very  often  showed  displeasure  when 
the  loss  of  large  sums  was  mentioned.  The  fashion 
of  wearing  a  black  coat  without  being  in  mourning 
had  not  then  been  introduced,  and  the  King  gave 
a  few  of  his  coups  de  boutoir  to  certain  chevaliers 
de  St.  Louis,  dressed  in  this  manner,  who  came  to 
venture  two  or  three  louis,  in  the  hope  that  fortune 
would  favour  the  handsome  duchesses  who  deigned  to 
place  them  on  their  cards. 

Singular  contrasts  are  often  seen  amidst  the  gran- 
deur of  courts.  In  order  to  manage  such  high  play  at 
the  Queen's  faro  table,  it  was  necessary  to  have  a 
banker  provided  with  large  sums  of  money;  and  this 
necessity  placed  at  the  table,  to  which  none  but  the 
highest  titled  persons  were  admitted  in  general,  not 


150  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

only  M.  de  Chalabre,  who  was  its  banker,  but  also  a 
retired  captain  of  foot,  who  officiated  as  his  second. 
A  word,  trivial,  but  perfectly  appropriate  to  express 
the  manner  in  which  the  Court  was  attended  there, 
was  often  heard.  Gentlemen  presented  at  Court,  who 
had  not  been  invited  to  stay  at  Marly,  came  there  not- 
withstanding, as  they  did  to  Versailles,  and  returned 
again  to  Paris;  under  such  circumstances,  it  was  said 
such  a  one  had  been  to  Marly  only  en  polisson;  and  it 
appeared  odd  to  hear  a  captivating  marquis,  in  an- 
swer to  the  inquiry  whether  he  was  of  the  royal  party 
at  Marly,  say,  "  No,  I  am  only  here  en  polisson;" 
meaning  simply  "  I  am  here  on  the  footing  of  all  those 
whose  nobility  is  of  a  later  date  than  1400."  The 
Marly  excursions  were  exceedingly  expensive  to 
the  King.  Besides  the  superior  tables,  those  of  the 
almoners,  equerries,  maitres  d' hotel,  etc.,  were  all 
supplied  with  such  a  degree  of  magnificence  as  to 
allow  of  inviting  strangers  to  them;  and  almost  all 
the  visitors  from  Paris  were  boarded  at  the  expense 
of  the  Court. 

The  personal  frugality  of  the  unfortunate  Prince 
who  sank  beneath  the  weight  of  the  national  debts 
thus  favoured  the  Queen's  predilection  for  her  Petit 
Trianon;  and  for  five  or  six  years  preceding  the  Revo- 
lution the  Court  very  seldom  visited  Marly. 

The  King,  always  attentive  to  the  comfort  of  his 
family,  gave  Mesdames,  his  aunts,  the  use  of  the  Cha- 
teau de  Bellevue,  and  afterwards  purchased  the  Prin- 
cesse  de  Guemenee's  house,  at  the  entrance  to  Paris, 
for  Elisabeth.  The  Comtesse  de  Provence  bought  a 
small  house  at  Montreuil;  Monsieur  already  had 
Brunoy;  the  Comtesse  d'Artois  built  Bagatelle;  Ver- 
sailles became,  in  the  estimation  of  all  the  royal 
family,  the  least  agreeable  of  residences.  They  only 
fancied   themselves   at  home   in  the   plainest  houses, 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  151 

surrounded  by  English  gardens,  where  they  better 
enjoyed  the  beauties  of  nature.  The  taste  for  cas- 
cades and  statues  was  entirely  past. 

The  Queen  occasionally  remained  a  whole  month  at 
Petit  Trianon,  and  had  established  there  all  the  ways 
of  life  in  a  chateau.  She  entered  the  sitting-room 
without  driving  the  ladies  from  their  pianoforte  or 
embroidery.  The  gentlemen  continued  their  bil- 
liards or  backgammon  without  suffering  her  pres- 
ence to  interrupt  them.  There  was  but  little  room  in 
the  small  Chateau  of  Trianon.  Madame  Elisabeth 
accompanied  the  Queen  there,  but  the  ladies  of  honour 
and  ladies  of  the  palace  had  no  establishment  at  Tri- 
anon. When  invited  by  the  Queen,  they  came  from 
Versailles  to  dinner.  The  King  and  Princes  came 
regularly  to  sup.  A  white  gown,  a  gauze  kerchief, 
and  a  straw  hat  were  the  uniform  dress  of  the  Prin- 
cesses. Examining  all  the  manufactories  of  the  ham- 
let, seeing  the  cows  milked,  and  fishing  in  the  lake 
delighted  the  Queen;  and  every  year  she  showed  in- 
creased aversion  to  the  pompous  excursions  to  Marly. 

The  idea  of  acting  comedies,  as  was  then  done  in 
almost  all  country  houses,  followed  on  the  Queen's 
wish  to  live  at  Trianon  without  ceremony.  It  was 
agreed  that  no  young  man  except  the  Comte  d'Artois 
should  be  admitted  into  the  company  of  performers, 
and  that  the  audience  should  consist  only  of  the 
King,  Monsieur,  and  the  Princesses,  who  did  not  play; 
but  in  order  to  stimulate  the  actors  a -little,  the  first 
boxes  were  to  be  occupied  by  the  readers,  the  Queen's 
ladies,  their  sisters  and  daughters,  making  altogether 
about  forty  persons. 

The  Queen  laughed  heartily  at  the  voice  of  M. 
d'Adhemar,  formerly  a  very  fine  one,  but  latterly 
become  rather  tremulous.  His  shepherd's  dress  in 
Colin,   in  the   "  Devin   du   Village,"   contrasted  very 


152  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

ridiculously  with  his  time  of  life,  and  the  Queen  said 
it  would  be  difficult  for  malevolence  itself  to  find  any- 
thing to  criticise  in  the  choice  of  such  a  lover.  The 
King  was  highly  amused  with  these  plays,  and  was 
present  at  every  performance.  Caillot,  a  celebrated 
actor,  who  had  long  quitted  the  stage,  and  Dazincourt, 
both  of  acknowledged  good  character,  were  selected 
to  give  lessons,  the  first  in  comic  opera,  of  which  the 
easier  sorts  were  preferred,  and  the  second  in  comedy. 
The  office  of  hearer  of  rehearsals,  prompter,  and  stage 
manager  was  given  to  my  father-in-law.  The  Due  de 
Fronsac,  first  gentleman  of  the  chamber,  was  much 
hurt  at  this.  He  thought  himself  called  upon  to 
make  serious  remonstrances  upon  the  subject,  and 
wrote  to  the  Queen,  who  made  him  the  following  an- 
swer :  "  You  cannot  be  first  gentleman  when  we  are 
the  actors.  Besides,  I  have  already  intimated  to  you 
my  determination  respecting  Trianon.  I  hold  no 
court  there,  I  live  like  a  private  person,  and  M.  Cam- 
pan  shall  be  always  employed  to  execute  orders  rela- 
tive to  the  private  fetes  I  choose  to  give  there."  This 
not  putting  a  stop  to  the  Duke's  remonstrances,  the 
King  was  obliged  to  interfere.  The  Duke  continued 
obstinate,  and  insisted  that  he  was  entitled  to  man- 
age the  private  amusements  as  much  as  those  which 
were  public.  It  became  absolutely  necessary  to  end 
the  argument  in  a  positive  manner. 

The  diminutive  Due  de  Fronsac  never  failed,  when 
he  came  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  Queen  at  her  toilet, 
to  turn  the  conversation  upon  Trianon,  in  order  to 
make  some  ironical  remarks  on  my  father-in-law,  of 
whom,  from  the  time  of  his  appointment,  he  always 
spoke  as  "  my  colleague  Campan."  The  Queen  would 
shrug  her  shoulders,  and  say,  when  he  was  gone,  "  It 
is  quite  shocking  to  find  so  little  a  man  in  the  son  of 
the  Marechal  de  Richelieu." 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  153 

So  long  as  no  strangers  were  admitted  to  the  per- 
formances they  were  but  little  censured;  but  the 
praise  obtained  by  the  performers  made  them  look  for 
a  larger  circle  of  admirers.  The  company,  for  a  pri- 
vate company,  was  good  enough,  and  the  acting  was 
applauded  to  the  skies;  nevertheless,  as  the  audience 
withdrew,  adverse  criticisms  were  occasionally  heard. 
The  Queen  permitted  the  officers  of  the  Body  Guards 
and  the  equerries  of  the  King  and  Princes  to  be  pres- 
ent at  the  plays.  Private  boxes  were  provided  for 
some  of  the  people  belonging  to  the  Court;  a  few 
more  ladies  were  invited;  and  claims  arose  on  all 
sides  for  the  favour  of  admission.  The  Queen  refused 
to  admit  the  officers  of  the  body  guards  of  the  Princes, 
the  officers  of  the  King's  Cent  Suisses,  and  many  other 
persons,  who  were  highly  mortified  at  the  refusal. 

While  delight  at  having  given  an  heir  to  the  throne 
of  the  Bourbons,  and  a  succession  of  fetes  and  amuse- 
ments, filled  up  the  happy  days  of  Marie  Antoinette, 
the  public  was  engrossed  by  the  Anglo-American  war. 
Two  kings,  or  rather  their  ministers,  planted  and 
propagated  the  love  of  liberty  in  the  new  world;  the 
King  of  England,  by  shutting  his  ears  and  his  heart 
against  the  continued  and  respectful  representations 
of  subjects  at  a  distance  from  their  native  land,  who 
had  become  numerous,  rich,  and  powerful,  through 
the  resources  of  the  soil  they  had  fertilised;  and  the 
King  of  France,  by  giving  support  to  this  people  in 
rebellion  against  their  ancient  sovereign.  Many  young 
soldiers,  belonging  to  the  first  families  of  the  coun- 
try, followed  La  Fayette's  example,  and  forsook  lux- 
ury, amusement,  and  love,  to  go  and  tender  their  aid 
to  the  revolted  Americans.  Beaumarchais,  secretly 
seconded  by  Messieurs  de  Maurepas  and  de  Vergennes, 
obtained  permission  to  send  out  supplies  of  arms  and 
clothing.     Franklin  appeared  at  Court  in  the  dress  of 


154  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

an  American  agriculturist.  His  unpowdered  hair, 
his  round  hat,  his  brown  cloth  coat  formed  a  con- 
trast to  the  laced  and  emboidered  coats  and  the 
powder  and  perfume  of  the  courtiers  of  Versailles. 
This  novelty  turned  the  light  heads  of  the  French- 
women. Elegant  entertainments  were  given  to  Doc- 
tor Franklin,  who,  to  the  reputation  of  a  man  of 
science,  added  the  patriotic  virtues  which  invested 
him  with  the  character  of  an  apostle  of  liberty.  I  was 
present  at  one  of  these  entertainments,  when  the  most 
beautiful  woman  out  of  three  hundred  was  selected 
to  place  a  crown  of  laurels  upon  the  white  head  of 
the  American  philosopher,  and  two  kisses  upon  his 
cheeks.  Even  in  the  palace  of  Versailles  Franklin's 
medallion  was  sold  under  the  King's  eyes,  in  the  ex- 
hibition of  Sevres  porcelain.  The  legend  of  this  me- 
dallion was : 

"  Eripuit  coelo  fulmen,  sceptrumque  tyrannis." 

The  King  never  declared  his  opinion  upon  an  en- 
thusiasm which  his  correct  judgment  no  doubt  led 
him  to  blame.  The  Queen  spoke  out  more  plainly 
about  the  part  France  was  taking  respecting  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  American  colonies,  and  constantly 
opposed  it.  Far  was  she  from  foreseeing  that  a 
revolution  at  such  a  distance  could  excite  one  in 
which  a  misguided  populace  would  drag  her  from 
her  palace  to  a  death  equally  unjust  and  cruel.  She 
only  saw  something  ungenerous  in  the  method  which 
France  adopted  of  checking  the  power  of  England. 

However,  as  Queen  of  France,  she  enjoyed  the  sight 
of  a  whole  people  rendering  homage  to  the  prudence, 
courage,  and  good  qualities  of  a  young  Frenchman; 
and  she  shared  the  enthusiasm  inspired  by  the  con- 
duct and  military  success  of  the  Marquis  de  La 
Fayette.     The  Queen  granted  him  several  audiences 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  155 

on  his  first  return  from  America,  and,  until  the  10th 
of  August,  on  which  day  my  house  was  plundered, 
I  preserved  some  lines  from  Gaston  and  Bayard,  in 
which  the  friends  of  M.  de  La  Fayette  saw  the 
exact  outline  of  his  character,  written  by  her  own 
hand: 

"  Why  talk  of  youth, 
When  all  the  ripe  experience  of  the  old 
Dwells  with  him?     In  his  schemes  profound  and  cool, 
He  acts  with  wise  precaution,  and  reserves 
For  time  of  action  his  impetuous  fire. 
To  guard  the  camp,  to  scale  the  leaguered  wall, 
Or  dare  the  hottest  of  the  fight,  are  toils 
That  suit  th'  impetuous  bearing  of  his  youth; 
Yet  like  the  gray-hair'd  veteran  he  can  shun 
The  field  of  peril.     Still  before  my  eyes 
I  place  his  bright  example,  for  I  love 
His  lofty  courage,  and  his  prudent  thought. 
Gifted  like  him,  a  warrior  has  no  age." 

These  lines  had  been  applauded  and  encored  at  the 
French  theatre;  everybody's  head  was  turned.  There 
was  no  class  of  persons  that  did  not  heartily  approve 
of  the  support  given  openly  by  the  French  Govern- 
ment to  the  cause  of  American  independence.  The 
constitution  planned  for  the  new  nation  was  digested 
at  Paris,  and  while  liberty,  equality,  and  the  rights  of 
man  were  commented  upon  by  the  Condorcets,  Baillys, 
Mirabeaus,  etc.,  the  minister  Segur  published  the 
King's  edict,  which,  by  repealing  that  of  1st  Novem- 
ber, 1750,  declared  all  officers  not  noble  by  four  gen- 
erations incapable  of  filling  the  rank  of  captain,  and 
denied  all  military  rank  to  the  roturiers,  excepting 
sons  of  the  chevaliers  de  St.  Louis.  The  injustice  and 
absurdity  of  this  law  was  no  doubt  a  secondary  cause 
of  the  Revolution.  To  understand  the  despair  and 
rage  with  which  this  law  inspired  the  Tiers  Etat  one 
should  have  belonged  to  that  honourable  class.  The 
provinces  were  full  of  roturier  families,  who  for  ages 


156  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

had  lived  as  people  of  property  upon  their  own  do- 
mains, and  paid  the  taxes.  If  these  persons  had  sev- 
eral sons,  they  would  place  one  in  the  King's  serv- 
ice, one  in  the  Church,  another  in  the  Order  of  Malta 
as  a  chevalier  servant  d' amies,  and  one  in  the  magis- 
tracy; while  the  eldest  preserved  the  paternal  manor, 
and  if  he  were  situated  in  a  country  celebrated  for 
wine,  he  would,  besides  selling  his  own  produce,  add 
a  kind  of  commission  trade  in  the  wines  of  the  canton. 
I  have  seen  an  individual  of  this  justly  respected  class, 
who  had  been  long  employed  in  diplomatic  business, 
and  even  honoured  with  the  title  of  minister  plenipo- 
tentiary, the  son-in-law  and  nephew  of  colonels  and 
town  mayors,  and,  on  his  mother's  side,  nephew  of  a 
lieutenant-general  with  a  cordon  rouge,  unable  to  in- 
troduce his  sons  as  sous-lieutenants  into  a  regiment  of 
foot. 

Another  decision  of  the  Court,  which  could  not  be 
announced  by  an  edict,  was  that  all  ecclesiastical  bene- 
fices, from  the  humblest  priory  up  to  the  richest  abbey, 
should  in  future  be  appanages  of  the  nobility.  Being 
the  son  of  a  village  surgeon,  the  Abbe  de  Vermond, 
who  had  great  influence  in  the  disposition  of  benefices, 
was  particularly  struck  with  the  justice  of  this 
decree. 

During  the  absence  of  the  Abbe  in  an  excursion 
he  made  for  his  health,  I  prevailed  on  the  Queen  to 
write  a  postscript  to  the  petition  of  a  cure,  one  of  my 
friends,  who  was  soliciting  a  priory  near  his  curacy, 
with  the  intention  of  retiring  to  it.  I  obtained  it  for 
him.  On  the  Abbe's  return  he  told  me  very  harshly 
that  I  should  act  in  a  manner  quite  contrary  to  the 
King's  wishes  if  I  again  obtained  such  a  favour;  that 
the  wealth  of  the  Church  was  for  the  future  to  be 
invariably  devoted  to  the  support  of  the  poorer  nobil- 
ity; that  it  was  the  interest  of  the  State  that  it  should 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  157 

be  so;  and  a  plebeian  priest,  happy  in  a  good  curacy, 
had  only  to  remain  curate. 

Can  we  be  astonished  at  the  part  shortly  afterwards 
taken  by  the  deputies  of  the  Third  Estate,  when  called 
to  the  States  General? 


CHAPTER  XI 

A  BOUT  the  close  of  the  last  century  several  of 
/-\  the  Northern  sovereigns  took  a  fancy  for  trav- 
■*«  *  elling.  Christian  III.,  King  of  Denmark,  vis- 
ited the  Court  of  France  in  1763,  during  the  reign  of 
Louis  XV.  We  have  seen  the  King  of  Sweden  and 
Joseph  II.  at  Versailles.  The  Grand  Duke  of  Russia 
(afterwards  Paul  I.),  son  of  Catherine  II.,  and  the 
Princess  of  Wurtemberg,  his  wife,  likewise  resolved 
to  visit  France.  They  travelled  under  the  titles  of  the 
Comte  and  Comtesse  du  Nord.  They  were  presented 
on  the  20th  of  May,  1782.  The  Queen  received  them 
with  grace  and  dignity.  On  the  day  of  their  arrival 
at  Versailles  they  dined  in  private  with  the  King  and 
Queen. 

The  plain,  unassuming  appearance  of  Paul  I. 
pleased  Louis  XVI.  He  spoke  to  him  with  more 
confidence  and  cheerfulness  than  he  had  spoken 
to  Joseph  II.  The  Comtesse  du  Nord  was  not  at 
first  so  successful  with  the  Queen.  This  lady  was 
of  a  fine  height,  very  fat  for  her  age,  with  all  the 
German  stiffness,  well  informed,  and  perhaps  display- 
ing her  acquirements  with  rather  too  much  confi- 
dence. When  the  Comte  and  Comtesse  du  Nord 
were  presented  the  Queen  was  exceedingly  nervous. 
She  withdrew  into  her  closet  before  she  went  into 
the  room  where  she  was  to  dine  with  the  illustrious 
travellers,  and  asked  for  a  glass  of  water,  confessing 
"  she  had  just  experienced  how  much  more  difficult 
it  was  to  play  the  part  of  a  queen  in  the  presence 
of  other  sovereigns,  or  of  princes  born  to  become  so, 

158 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  159 

than  before  courtiers."  She  soon  recovered  from  her 
confusion,  and  reappeared  with  ease  and  confidence. 
The  dinner  was  tolerably  cheerful,  and  the  conversa- 
tion very  animated. 

Brilliant  entertainments  were  given  at  Court  in 
honour  of  the  King  of  Sweden  and  the  Comte  du 
Nord.  They  were  received  in  private  by  the  King 
and  Queen,  but  they  were  treated  with  much  more 
ceremony  than  the  Emperor,  and  their  Majesties 
always  appeared  to  me  to  be  very  cautious  before 
these  personages.  However,  the  King  one  day  asked 
the  Russian  Grand  Duke  if  it  were  true  that  he  could 
not  rely  on  the  fidelity  of  any  one  of  those  who  ac- 
companied him.  The  Prince  answered  him  without 
hesitation,  and  before  a  considerable  number  of 
persons,  that  he  should  be  very  sorry  to  have  with 
him  even  a  poodle  that  was  much  attached  to  him, 
because  his  mother  would  take  care  to  have  it  thrown 
into  the  Seine,  with  a  stone  round  its  neck,  before  he 
should  leave  Paris.  This  reply,  which  I  myself  heard, 
horrified  me,  whether  it  depicted  the  disposition  of 
Catherine,  or  only  expressed  the  Prince's  prejudice 
against  her. 

The  Queen  gave  the  Grand  Duke  a  supper  at 
Trianon,  and  had  the  gardens  illuminated  as  they 
had  been  for  the  Emperor.  The  Cardinal  de  Rohan 
very  indiscreetly  ventured  to  introduce  himself  there 
without  the  Queen's  knowledge.  Having  been  treated 
with  the  utmost  coolness  ever  since  his  return 
from  Vienna,  he  had  not  dared  to  ask  her  himself 
for  permission  to  see  the  illumination;  but  he  per- 
suaded the  porter  of  Trianon  to  admit  him  as  soon 
as  the  Queen  should  have  set  off  for  Versailles,  and 
his  Eminence  engaged  to  remain  in  the  porter's  lodge 
until  all  the  carriages  should  have  left  the  chateau. 
He  did  not  keep  his  word,  and  while  the  porter  was 


160  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

busy  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty,  the  Cardinal,  who 
wore  his  red  stockings  and  had  merely  thrown  on 
a  greatcoat,  went  down  into  the  garden,  and,  with 
an  air  of  mystery,  drew  up  in  two  different  places 
to  see  the  royal  family  and  suite  pass  by. 

Her  Majesty  was  highly  offended  at  this  piece  of 
boldness,  and  next  day  ordered  the  porter  to  be 
discharged.  There  was  a  general  feeling  of  disgust 
at  the  Cardinal's  conduct,  and  of  commiseration 
towards  the  porter  for  the  loss  of  his  place.  Affected 
at  the  misfortune  of  the  father  of  a  family,  I  obtained 
his  forgiveness;  and  since  that  time  I  have  often  re- 
gretted the  feeling  which  induced  me  to  interfere.  The 
notoriety  of  the  discharge  of  the  porter  of  Trianon, 
and  the  odium  that  circumstance  would  have  fixed 
upon  the  Cardinal,  would  have  made  the  Queen's  dis- 
like to  him  still  more  publicly  known,  and  would 
probably  have  prevented  the  scandalous  and  notorious 
intrigue  of  the  necklace. 

The  Queen,  who  was  much  prejudiced  against  the 
King  of  Sweden,  received  him  very  coldly.  All  that 
was  said  of  the  private  character  of  that  sovereign, 
his  connection  with  the  Comte  de  Vergennes,  from 
the  time  of  the  Revolution  of  Sweden,  in  1772,  the 
character  of  his  favourite  Armfeldt,  and  the  preju- 
dices of  the  monarch  himself  against  the  Swedes  who 
were  well  received  at  the  Court  of  Versailles,  formed 
the  grounds  of  this  dislike.  He  came  one  day  un- 
invited and  unexpected,  and  requested  to  dine  with 
the  Queen.  The  Queen  received  him  in  the  little 
closet,  and  desired  me  to  send  for  her  clerk  of  the 
kitchen,  that  she  might  be  informed  whether  there 
was  a  proper  dinner  to  set  before  Comte  d'Haga, 
and  add  to  it  if  necessary.  The  King  of  Sweden 
assured  her  that  there  would  be  enough  for  him;  and 
I  could  not  help  smiling  when  I  thought  of  the  length 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  161 

of  the  menu  of  the  dinner  of  the  King  and  Queen,  not 
half  of  which  would  have  made  its  appearance  had 
they  dined  in  private.  The  Queen  looked  significantly 
at  me,  and  I  withdrew.  In  the  evening  she  asked  me 
why  I  had  seemed  so  astonished  when  she  ordered 
me  to  add  to  her  dinner,  saying  that  I  ought  instantly 
to  have  seen  that  she  was  giving  the  King  of  Sweden 
a  lesson  for  his  presumption.  I  owned  to  her  that  the 
scene  had  appeared  to  me  so  much  in  the  bourgeois 
style,  that  I  involuntarily  thought  of  the  cutlets  on 
the  gridiron,  and  the  omelette,  which  in  families  in 
humble  circumstances  serve  to  piece  out  short  com- 
mons. She  was  highly  diverted  with  my  answer,  and 
repeated  it  to  the  King,  who  also  laughed  heartily 
at  it. 

The  peace  with  England  satisfied  all  classes  of 
society  interested  in  the  national  honour.  The  de- 
parture of  the  English  commissary  from  Dunkirk, 
who  had  been  fixed  at  that  place  ever  since  the 
shameful  peace  of  1763  as  inspector  of  our  navy, 
occasioned  an  ecstasy  of  joy.  The  Government 
communicated  to  the  Englishman  the  order  for  his 
departure  before  the  treaty  was  made  public.  But 
for  that  precaution  the  populace  would  have  prob- 
ably committed  some  excess  or  other,  in  order  to 
make  the  agent  of  English  power  feel  the  effects  of 
the  resentment  which  had  constantly  increased  during 
his  stay  at  that  port.  Those  engaged  in  trade  were 
the  only  persons  dissatisfied  with  the  treaty  of  1783. 
That  article  which  provided  for  the  free  admission 
of  English  goods  annihilated  at  one  blow  the  trade  of 
Rouen  and  the  other  manufacturing  towns  through- 
out the  kingdom.  The  English  swarmed  into  Paris. 
A  considerable  number  of  them  were  presented  at 
Court.  The  Queen  paid  them  marked  attention; 
doubtless   she    wished    them    to    distinguish    between 


1 62  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  esteem  she  felt  for  their  noble  nation  and  the 
political  views  of  the  Government  in  the  support  it 
had  afforded  to  the  Americans.  Discontent  was, 
however,  manifested  at  Court  in  consequence  of  the 
favour  bestowed  by  the  Queen  on  the  English  noble- 
men; these  attentions  were  called  infatuations.  This 
was  illiberal;  and  the  Queen  justly  complained  of  such 
absurd  jealousy. 

The  journey  to  Fontainebleau  and  the  winter  at 
Paris  and  at  Court  were  extremely  brilliant.  The 
spring  brought  back  those  amusements  which  the 
Queen  began  to  prefer  to  the  splendour  of  fetes.  The 
most  perfect  harmony  subsisted  between  the  King  and 
Queen;  I  never  saw  but  one  cloud  between  them.  It 
was  soon  dispelled,  and  the  cause  of  it  is  perfectly 
unknown  to  me. 

My  father-in-law,  whose  penetration  and  experi- 
ence I  respected  greatly,  recommended  me,  when  he 
saw  me  placed  in  the  service  of  a  young  queen,  to 
shun  all  kinds  of  confidence.  "  It  procures,"  said  he, 
"  but  a  very  fleeting,  and  at  the  same  time  dangerous 
sort  of  favour;  serve  with  zeal  to  the  best  of  your 
judgment,  but  never  do  more  than  obey.  Instead  of 
setting  your  wits  to  work  to  discover  why  an  order  or 
a  commission  which  may  appear  of  consequence  is 
given  to  you,  use  them  to  prevent  the  possibility  of 
your  knowing  anything  of  the  matter."  I  had  oc- 
casion to  act  on  this  wise  advice.  One  morning  at 
Trianon  I  went  into  the  Queen's  chamber;  there  were 
letters  lying  upon  the  bed,  and  she  was  weeping  bit- 
terly. Her  tears  and  sobs  were  occasionally  inter- 
rupted by  exclamations  of  "  Ah!  that  I  were  dead! — 
wretches!  monsters!  What  have  I  done  to  them?" 
I  offered  her  orange-flower  water  and  ether.  "  Leave 
me,"  said  she,  "if  you  love  me;  it  would  be  better 
to  kill  me  at  once."     At  this  moment  she  threw  her 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  163; 

arm  over  my  shoulder  and  began  weeping  afresh.  I 
saw  that  some  weighty  trouble  oppressed  her  heart, 
and  that  she  wanted  a  confidant.  I  suggested  send- 
ing for  the  Duchesse  de  Polignac;  this  she  strongly 
opposed.  I  renewed  my  arguments,  and  her  opposi- 
tion grew  weaker.  I  disengaged  myself  from  her 
arms,  and  ran  to  the  antechamber,  where  I  knew  that 
an  outrider  always  waited,  ready  to  mount  and  start 
at  a  moment's  warning  for  Versailles.  I  ordered  him 
to  go  full  speed,  and  tell  the  Duchesse  de  Polignac 
that  the  Queen  was  very  uneasy,  and  desired  to  see 
her  instantly.  The  Duchess  always  had  a  carriage 
ready.  In  less  than  ten  minutes  she  was  at  the  Queen's 
door.  I  was  the  only  person  there,  having  been  for- 
bidden to  send  for  the  other  women.  Madame  de 
Polignac  came  in;  the  Queen  held  out  her  arms  to 
her,  the  Duchess  rushed  towards  her.  I  heard  her  sobs 
renewed  and  withdrew. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards  the  Queen,  who 
had  become  calmer,  rang  to  be  dressed.  I  sent  her 
woman  in;  she  put  on  her  gown  and  retired  to  her 
boudoir  with  the  Duchess.  Very  soon  afterwards 
the  Comte  d'Artois  arrived  from  Compiegne,  where 
he  had  been  with  the  King.  He  eagerly  inquired 
where  the  Queen  was;  remained  half  an  hour  with 
her  and  the  Duchess;  and  on  coming  out  told  me 
the  Queen  asked  for  me.  I  found  her  seated  on  the 
couch  by  the  side  of  her  friend;  her  features  had 
resumed  their  usual  cheerful  and  gracious  appearance. 
She  held  out  her  hand  to  me,  and  said  to  the  Duchess, 
"  I  know  I  have  made  her  so  uncomfortable  this 
morning  that  I  must  set  her  poor  heart  at  ease."  She 
then  added,  "  You  must  have  seen,  on  some  fine  sum- 
mer's day,  a  black  cloud  suddenly  appear  and  threaten 
to  pour  down  upon  the  country  and  lay  it  waste.  The 
lightest  wind  drives  it  away,  and  the  blue  sky  and 

Vol.  3  Memoirs — 6 


1 64  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

serene  weather  are  restored.  This  is  just  the  image 
of  what  has  happened  to  me  this  morning."  She 
afterwards  told  me  that  the  King  would  return  from 
Compiegne  after  hunting  there,  and  sup  with  her; 
that  I  must  send  for  her  purveyor,  to  select  with  him 
from  his  bills  of  fare  all  such  dishes  as  the  King 
liked  best;  that  she  would  have  no  others  served  up  in 
the  evening  at  her  table;  and  that  this  was  a  mark 
of  attention  that  she  wished  the  King  to  notice.  The 
Duchesse  de  Polignac  also  took  me  by  the  hand,  and 
told  me  how  happy  she  was  that  she  had  been  with 
the  Queen  at  a  moment  when  she  stood  in  need  of  a 
friend.  I  never  knew  what  could  have  created  in  the 
Queen  so  lively  and  so  transient  an  alarm;  but  I 
guessed  from  the  particular  care  she  took  respecting 
the  King  that  attempts  had  been  made  to  irritate  him 
against  her;  that  the  malice  of  her  enemies  had  been 
promptly  discovered  and  counteracted  by  the  King's 
penetration  and  attachment;  and  that  the  Comte 
d'Artois  had  hastened  to  bring  her  intelligence 
of  it. 

It  was,  I  think,  in  the  summer  of  1787,  during  one 
of  the  Trianon  excursions,  that  the  Queen  of  Naples 
sent  the  Chevalier  de  Bressac  to  her  Majesty  on  a 
secret  mission  relative  to  a  projected  marriage  be- 
tween the  Hereditary  Prince,  her  son,  and  Madame, 
the  King's  daughter;  in  the  absence  of  the  lady  of 
honour  he  addressed  himself  to  me.  Although  he 
said  a  great  deal  to  me  about  the  close  confidence 
with  which  the  Queen  of  Naples  honoured  him,  and 
about  his  letter  of  credit,  I  thought  he  had  the  air  of 
an  adventurer.  He  had,  indeed,  private  letters  for 
the  Queen,  and  his  mission  was  not  feigned;  he 
talked  to  me  very  rashly  even  before  his  admission, 
and  entreated  me  to  do  all  that  lay  in  my  power  to 
dispose  the  Queen's  mind  in  favour  of  his  sovereign's 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  165 

wishes;  I  declined,  assuring  him  that  it  did  not 
become  me  to  meddle  with  State  affairs.  He  endeav- 
oured, but  in  vain,  to  prove  to  me  that  the  union 
contemplated  by  the  Queen  of  Naples  ought  not  to  be 
looked  upon  in  that  light. 

I  procured  M.  de  Bressac  the  audience  he  desired, 
but  without  suffering  myself  even  to  seem  acquainted 
with  the  object  of  his  mission.  The  Queen  told  me 
what  it  was;  she  thought  him  a  person  ill-chosen  for 
the  occasion;  and  yet  she  thought  that  the  Queen,  her 
sister,  had  done  wisely  in  not  sending  a  man  worthy 
to  be  avowed, — it  being  impossible  that  what  she 
solicited  should  take  place.  I  had  an  opportunity  on 
this  occasion,  as  indeed  on  many  others,  of  judging  to 
what  extent  the  Queen  valued  and  loved  France  and 
the  dignity  of  our  Court.  She  then  told  me  that 
Madame,  in  marrying  her  cousin,  the  Due  d'Angou- 
leme,  would  not  lose  her  rank  as  daughter  of  the 
Queen;  and  that  her  situation  would  be  far  preferable 
to  that  of  queen  of  any  other  country;  and  that  there 
was  nothing  in  Europe  to  be  compared  to  the  Court 
of  France;  and  that  it  would  be  necessary,  in  order 
to  avoid  exposing  a  French  Princess  to  feelings  of 
deep  regret,  in  case  she  should  be  married  to  a  foreign 
prince,  to  take  her  from  the  palace  of  Versailles  at 
seven  years  of  age,  and  send  her  immediately  to  the 
Court  in  which  she  was  to  dwell;  and  that  at  twelve 
would  be  too  late;  for  recollections  and  comparisons 
would  ruin  the  happiness  of  all  the  rest  of  her  life. 
The  Queen  looked  upon  the  destiny  of'  her  sisters  as 
far  beneath  her  own;  and  frequently  mentioned  the 
mortifications  inflicted  by  the  Court  of  Spain  upon 
her  sister,  the  Queen  of  Naples,  and  the  necessity  she 
was  under  of  imploring  the  mediation  of  the  King  of 
France. 

She  showed  me  several  letters  that  she  had  received 


1 66  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

from  the  Queen  of  Naples  relative  to  her  differences 
with  the  Court  of  Madrid  respecting  the  Minister 
Acton.  She  thought  him  useful  to  her  people,  inas- 
much as  he  was  a  man  of  considerable  information 
and  great  activity.  In  these  letters  she  minutely  ac- 
quainted her  Majesty  with  the  nature  of  the  affronts 
she  had  received,  and  represented  Mr.  Acton  to  her  as 
a  man  whom  malevolence  itself  could  not  suppose 
capable  of  interesting  her  otherwise  than  by  his  serv- 
ices. She  had  had  to  suffer  the  impertinences  of  a 
Spaniard  named  Las  Casas,  who  had  been  sent  to 
her  by  the  King,  her  father-in-law,  to  persuade  her 
to  dismiss  Mr.  Acton  from  the  business  of  the  State, 
and  from  her  intimacy.  She  complained  bitterly  to 
the  Queen,  her  sister,  of  the  insulting  proceedings  of 
this  charge  d'affaires,  whom  she  told,  in  order  to  con- 
vince him  of  the  nature  of  the  feelings  which  at- 
tached her  to  Mr.  Acton,  that  she  would  have  portraits 
and  busts  of  him  executed  by  the  most  eminent  artists 
of  Italy,  and  that  she  would  then  send  them  to  the 
King  of  Spain,  to  prove  that  nothing  but  the  desire  to 
retain  a  man  of  superior  capacity  had  induced  her 
to  bestow  on  him  the  favour  he  enjoyed.  This  Las 
Casas  dared  to  answer  her  that  it  would  be  useless 
trouble;  that  the  ugliness  of  a  man  did  not  always 
render  him  displeasing;  and  that  the  King  of  Spain 
had  too  much  experience  not  to  know  that  there  was 
no  accounting  for  the  caprices  of  a  woman. 

This  audacious  reply  filled  the  Queen  of  Naples 
with  indignation,  and  her  emotion  caused  her  to  mis- 
carry on  the  same  day.  In  consequence  of  the  medi- 
ation of  Louis  XVI.  the  Queen  of  Naples  obtained 
complete  satisfaction,  and  Mr.  Acton  continued  Prime 
Minister. 

Among  the  characteristics  which  denoted  the  good- 
ness of  the  Queen,  her  respect   for  personal  liberty 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  167 

should  have  a  place.  I  have  seen  her  put  up  with 
the  most  troublesome  importunities  from  people  whose 
minds  were  deranged  rather  than  have  them  arrested. 
Her  patient  kindness  was  put  to  a  very  disagreeable 
trial  by  an  ex-councillor  of  the  Bordeaux  Parliament, 
named  Castelnaux;  this  man  declared  himself  the 
lover  of  the  Queen,  and  was  generally  known  by  that 
appellation.  For  ten  successive  years  did  he  follow 
the  Court  in  all  its  excursions.  Pale  and  wan,  as 
people  who  are  out  of  their  senses  usually  are,  his 
sinister  appearance  occasioned  the  most  uncomfort- 
able sensations.  During  the  two  hours  that  the 
Queen's  public  card  parties  lasted,  he  would  remain 
opposite  her  Majesty.  He  placed  himself  in  the 
same  manner  before  her  at  chapel,  and  never  failed 
to  be  at  the  King's  dinner  or  the  dinner  in  public. 
At  the  theatre  he  invariably  seated  himself  as  near 
the  Queen's  box  as  possible.  He  always  set  off  for 
Fontainebleau  or  St.  Cloud  the  day  before  the  Court, 
and  when  her  Majesty  arrived  at  her  various  resi- 
dences, the  first  person  she  met  on  getting  out  of 
her  carriage  was  this  melancholy  madman,  who  never 
spoke  to  any  one.  When  the  Queen  stayed  at  Petit 
Trianon  the  passion  of  this  unhappy  man  became  still 
more  annoying.  He  would  hastily  swallow  a  morsel 
at  some  eating-house,  and  spend  all  the  rest  of  the 
day,  even  when  it  rained,  in  going  round  and  round 
the  garden,  always  walking  at  the  edge  of  the  moat. 
The  Queen  frequently  met  him  when  she  was  either 
alone  or  with  her  children;  and  yet  she  would  not 
suffer  any  violence  to  be  used  to  relieve  her  from  this 
intolerable  annoyance.  Having  one  day  given  M.  de 
Seze  permission  to  enter  Trianon,  she  sent  to  desire 
he  would  come  to  me,  and  directed  me  to  inform  that 
celebrated  advocate  of  M.  de  Castelnaux's  derange- 
ment, and  then  to  send  for  him  that  M.  de  Seze  might 


168  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

have  some  conversation  with  him.  He  talked  to  him 
nearly  an  hour,  and  made  considerable  impression 
upon  his  mind;  and  at  last  M.  de  Castelnaux  re- 
quested me  to  inform  the  Queen  positively  that,  since 
his  presence  was  disagreeable  to  her,  he  would  retire 
to  his  province.  The  Queen  was  very  much  rejoiced, 
and  desired  me  to  express  her  full  satisfaction  to  M. 
de  Seze.  Half  an  hour  after  M.  de  Seze  was  gone  the 
unhappy  madman  was  announced.  He  came  to  tell 
me  that  he  withdrew  his  promise,  that  he  had  not 
sufficient  command  of  himself  to  give  up  seeing  the 
Queen  as  often  as  possible.  This  new  determination 
was  a  disagreeable  message  to  take  to  her  Majesty; 
but  how  was  I  affected  at  hearing  her  say,  "  Well,  let 
him  annoy  me !  but  do  not  let  him  be  deprived  of  the 
blessing  of  freedom." 

The  direct  influence  of  the  Queen  on  affairs  during 
the  earlier  years  of  the  reign  was  shown  only  in  her 
exertions  to  obtain  from  the  King  a  revision  of  the 
decrees  in  two  celebrated  causes.  It  was  contrary  to 
her  principles  to  interfere  in  matters  of  justice,  and 
never  did  she  avail  herself  of  her  influence  to  bias  the 
tribunals.  The  Duchesse  de  Praslin,  through  a  crimi- 
nal caprice,  carried  her  enmity  to  her  husband  so  far 
as  to  disinherit  her  children  in  favour  of  the  family 
of  M.  de  Guemenee.  The  Duchesse  de  Choiseul,  who 
was  warmly  interested  in  this  affair,  one  day  entreated 
the  Queen,  in  my  presence,  at  least  to  condescend  to 
ask  the  first  president  when  the  cause  would  be  called 
on;  the  Queen  replied  that  she  could  not  even  do 
that,  for  Tt  would  manifest  an  interest  which  it  was 
her  duty  not  to  show. 

If  the  King  had  not  inspired  the  Queen  with  a  lively 
feeling  of  love,  it  is  quite  certain  that  she  yielded  him 
respect  and  affection  for  the  goodness  of  his  disposi- 
tion and  the  equity  of  which  he  gave  so  many  proofs 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  169 

throughout  his  reign.  One  evening  she  returned  very 
late;  she  came  out  of  the  King's  closet,  and  said  to 
M.  de  Misery  and  myself,  drying  her  eyes,  which  were 
filled  with  tears,  "  You  see  me  weeping,  but  do  not  be 
uneasy  at  it:  these  are  the  sweetest  tears  that  a  wife 
can  shed;  they  are  caused  by  the  impression  which 
the  justice  and  goodness  of  the  King  have  made 
upon  me;  he  has  just  complied  with  my  request  for 
a  revision  of  the  proceedings  against  Messieurs  de 
Bellegarde  and  de  Monthieu,  victims  of  the  Due 
d'Aiguillon's  hatred  to  the  Due  de  Choiseul.  He 
has  been  equally  just  to  the  Due  de  Guines  in  his 
affair  with  Tort.  It  is  a  happy  thing  for  a  queen  to 
be  able  to  admire  and  esteem  him  who  has  admitted 
her  to  a  participation  of  his  throne;  and  as  to  you,  I 
congratulate  you  upon  your  having  to  live  under  the 
sceptre  of  so  virtuous  a  sovereign." 

The  Queen  laid  before  the  King  all  the  memorials 
of  the  Due  de  Guines,  who,  during  his  embassy  to 
England,  was  involved  in  difficulties  by  a  secretary, 
who  speculated  in  the  public  funds  in  London  on  his 
own  account,  but  in  such  a  manner  as  to  throw  a  sus- 
picion of  it  on  the  ambassador.  Messieurs  de  Ver- 
gennes  and  Turgot,  bearing  but  little  good-will  to  the 
Due  de  Guines,  who  was  the  friend  of  the  Due  de 
Choiseul,  were  not  disposed  to  render  the  ambassa- 
dor any  service.  The  Queen  succeeded  in  fixing  the 
King's  particular  attention  on  this  affair,  and  the  in- 
nocence of  the  Due  de  Guines  triumphed  through  the 
equity  of  Louis  XVI. 

An  incessant  underhand  war  was  carried  on  be- 
tween the  friends  and  partisans  of  M.  de  Choiseul, 
who  were  called  the  Austrians,  and  those  who  sided 
with  Messieurs  d'Aiguillon,  de  Maurepas,  and  de 
Vergennes,  who,  for  the  same  reason,  kept  up  the 
intrigues  carried  on  at  Court  and  in  Paris  against  the 


lyo  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

Queen.  Marie  Antoinette,  on  her  part,  supported 
those  who  had  suffered  in  this  political  quarrel,  and  it 
was  this  feeling  which  led  her  to  ask  for  a  revision 
of  the  proceedings  against  Messieurs  de  Bellegarde 
and  de  Monthieu.  The  first,  a  colonel  and  inspector 
of  artillery,  and  the  second,  proprietor  of  a  foundry 
at  St.  Etienne,  were,  under  the  Ministry  of  the  Due 
d'Aiguillon,  condemned  to  imprisonment  for  twenty 
years  and  a  day  for  having  withdrawn  from  the 
arsenals  of  France,  by  order  of  the  Due  de  Choiseul, 
a  vast  number  of  muskets,  as  being  of  no  value  except 
as  old  iron,  while  in  point  of  fact  the  greater  part 
of  those  muskets  were  immediately  embarked  and 
sold  to  the  Americans.  It  appears  that  the  Due  de 
Choiseul  imparted  to  the  Queen,  as  grounds  of  de- 
fence for  the  accused,  the  political  views  which  led 
him  to  authorise  that  reduction  and  sale  in  the  manner 
in  which  it  had  been  executed.  It  rendered  the  case 
of  Messieurs  de  Bellegarde  and  de  Monthieu  more 
unfavourable  that  the  artillery  officer  who  made  the 
reduction  in  the  capacity  of  inspector  was,  through 
a  clandestine  marriage,  brother-in-law  of  the  owner 
of  the  foundry,  the  purchaser  of  the  rejected  arms. 
The  innocence  of  the  two  prisoners  was,  neverthe- 
less, made  apparent;  and  they  came  to  Versailles  with 
their  wives  and  children  to  throw  themselves  at 
the  feet  of  their  benefactress.  This  affecting  scene 
took  place  in  the  grand  gallery,  at  the  entrance  to 
the  Queen's  apartment.  She  wished  to  restrain  the 
women  from  kneeling,  saying  that  they  had  only  had 
justice  done  them;  and  that  she  ought  to  be  congratu- 
lated upon  the  most  substantial  happiness  attendant 
upon  her  station,  that  of  laying  such  appeals  before 
the  King. 

On  every  occasion,  when  the  Queen  had  to  speak 
in  public,  she  used  the  most  appropriate  and  elegant 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  171 

language,  notwithstanding  the  difficulty  a  foreigner 
might  be  expected  to  experience.  She  answered  all 
addresses  herself,  a  custom  which  she  learned  at  the 
Court  of  Maria  Theresa.  The  Princesses  of  the 
House  of  Bourbon  had  long  ceased  to  take  the  trouble 
of  speaking  in  such  cases.  Madame  Adelaide  blamed 
the  Queen  for  not  doing  as  they  did,  assuring  her 
that  it  was  quite  sufficient  to  mutter  a  few  words  that 
might  sound  like  an  answer,  while  the  addressers, 
occupied  with  what  they  had  themselves  been  saying, 
would  always  take  it  for  granted  that  a  proper  answer 
had  been  returned.  The  Queen  saw  that  idleness 
alone  dictated  such  a  proceeding,  and  that  as  the 
practice  even  of  muttering  a  few  words  showed  the 
necessity  of  answering  in  some  way,  it  must  be  more 
proper  to  reply  simply  but  clearly,  and  in  the  best 
style  possible.  Sometimes,  indeed,  when  apprised  of 
the  subject  of  the  address,  she  would  write  down  her 
answer  in  the  morning,  not  to  learn  it  by  heart,  but  in 
order  to  settle  the  ideas  or  sentiments  she  wished  to 
introduce. 

The  influence  of  the  Comtesse  de  Polignac  increased 
daily;  and  her  friends  availed  themselves  of  it  to  ef- 
fect changes  in  the  Ministry.  The  dismissal  of  M.  de 
Montbarrey,  a  man  without  talents  or  character,  was 
generally  approved  of.  It  was  rightly  attributed  to 
the  Queen.  He  had  been  placed  in  administration  by 
M.  de  Maurepas,  and  maintained  by  his  aged  wife; 
both,  of  course,  became  more  inveterate  than  ever 
against  the  Queen  and  the  Polignac  circle. 

The  appointment  of  M.  de  Segur  to  the  place  of 
Minister  of  War,  and  of  M.  de  Castries  to  that  of 
Minister  of  Marine,  were  wholly  the  work  of  that 
circle.  The  Queen  dreaded  making  ministers;  her 
favourite  often  wept  when  the  men  of  her  circle 
compelled  her  to  interfere.     Men  blame  women  for 


172  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

meddling  in  business,  and  yet  in  courts  it  is  con- 
tinually the  men  themselves  who  make  use  of  the 
influence  of  the  women  in  matters  with  which  the 
latter  ought  to  have  nothing  to  do. 

When  M.  de  Segur  was  presented  to  the  Queen  on 
his  new  appointment,  she  said  to  me,  "  You  have  just 
seen  a  minister  of  my  making.  I  am  very  glad,  so  far 
as  regards  the  King's  service,  that  he  is  appointed,  for 
I  think  the  selection  a  very  good  one;  but  I  almost 
regret  the  part  I  have  taken  in  it.  I  take  a  responsi- 
bility upon  myself.  I  was  fortunate  in  being  free 
from  any;  and  in  order  to  relieve  myself  from  this  as 
much  as  possible  I  have  just  promised  M.  de  Segur, 
and  that  upon  my  word  of  honour,  not  to  back  any 
petition,  nor  to  hinder  any  of  his  operations  by 
solicitations  on  behalf  of  my  proteges." 

During  the  first  administration  of  M.  Necker, 
whose  ambition  had  not  then  drawn  him  into  schemes 
repugnant  to  his  better  judgment,  and  whose  views 
appeared  to  the  Queen  to  be  very  judicious,  she  in- 
dulged in  hopes  of  the  restoration  of  the  finances. 
Knowing  that  M.  de  Maurepas  wished  to  drive  M. 
Necker  to  resign,  she  urged  him  to  have  patience  until 
the  death  of  an  old  man  whom  the  King  kept  about 
him  from  a  fondness  for  his  first  choice,  and  out  of 
respect  for  his  advanced  age.  She  even  went  so  far 
as  to  tell  him  that  M.  de  Maurepas  was  always  ill,  and 
that  his  end  could  not  be  very  distant.  M.  Necker 
would  not  wait  for  that  event.  The  Queen's  predic- 
tion was  fulfilled.  M.  de  Maurepas  ended  his  days  im- 
mediately after  a  journey  to  Fontainebleau  in  1781. 

M.  Necker  had  retired.  He  had  been  exasperated 
by  a  piece  of  treachery  in  the  old  minister,  for  which 
he  could  not  forgive  him.  I  knew  something  of  this 
intrigue  at  the  time;  it  has  since  been  fully  explained 
to  me  by  Madame  la  Marechale  de   Beauvau.     M. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  173 

Necker  saw  that  his  credit  at  Court  was  declining-, 
and  fearing  lest  that  circumstance  should  injure  his 
financial  operations,  he  requested  the  King  to  grant 
him  some  favour  which  might  show  the  public  that 
he  had  not  lost  the  confidence  of  his  sovereign.  He 
concluded  his  letter  by  pointing  out  five  requests — 
such  an  office,  or  such  a  mark  of  distinction,  or  such 
a  badge  of  honour,  and  so  on,  and  handed  it  to  M. 
de  Maurepas.  The  ors  were  changed  into  ands;  and 
the  King  was  displeased  at  M.  Necker's  ambition,  and 
the  assurance  with  which  he  displayed  it.  Madame 
la  Marechale  de  Beauvau  assured  me  that  the  Mare- 
chal  de  Castries  saw  the  minute  of  M.  Necker's  letter, 
and  that  he  likewise  saw  the  altered  copy. 

The  interest  which  the  Queen  took  in  M.  Necker 
died  away  during  his  retirement,  and  at  last  changed 
into  strong  prejudice  against  him.  He  wrote  too 
much  about  the  measures  he  would  have  pursued, 
and  the  benefits  that  would  have  resulted  to  the 
State  from  them.  The  ministers  who  succeeded 
him  thought  their  operations  embarrassed  by  the 
care  that  M.  Necker  and  his  partisans  incessantly 
took  to  occupy  the  public  with  his  plans;  his  friends 
were  too  ardent.  The  Queen  discerned  a  party  spirit 
in  these  combinations,  and  sided  wholly  with  his 
enemies. 

After  those  inefficient  comptrollers-general,  Mes- 
sieurs Joly  de  Fleury  and  d'Ormesson,  it  became 
necessary  to  resort  to  a  man  of  more  acknowledged 
talent,  and  the  Queen's  friends,  at  that  time  combin- 
ing with  the  Comte  d'Artois  and  with  M.  de  Ver- 
gennes,  got  M.  de  Calonne  appointed.  The  Queen 
was  highly  displeased,  and  her  close  intimacy 
with  the  Duchesse  de  Polignac  began  to  suffer  for 
this. 

Her  Majesty,  continuing  to  converse  with  me  upon 


174  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  difficulties  she  had  met  with  in  private  life,  told 
me  that  ambitious  men  without  merit  sometimes  found 
means  to  gain  their  ends  by  dint  of  importunity,  and 
that  she  had  to  blame  herself  for  having  procured 
M.  d'Adhemar's  appointment  to  the  London  embassy, 
merely  because  he  teased  her  into  it  at  the  Duchess's 
house.  She  added,  however,  that  it  was  at  a  time  of 
perfect  peace  with  the  English;  that  the  Ministry 
knew  the  inefficiency  of  M.  d'Adhemar  as  well  as 
she  did,  and  that  he  could  do  neither  harm  nor 
good. 

Often  in  conversations  of  unreserved  frankness  the 
Queen  owned  that  she  had  purchased  rather  dearly  a 
piece  of  experience  which  would  make  her  carefully 
watch  over  the  conduct  of  her  daughters-in-law,  and 
that  she  would  be  particularly  scrupulous  about  the 
qualifications  of  the  ladies  who  might  attend  them; 
that  no  consideration  of  rank  or  favour  should  bias 
her  in  so  important  a  choice.  She  attributed  several 
of  her  youthful  mistakes  to  a  lady  of  great  levity, 
whom  she  found  in  her  palace  on  her  arrival  in 
France.  She  also  determined  to  forbid  the  Princesses 
coming  under  her  control  the  practice  of  singing  with 
professors,  and  said,  candidly,  and  with  as  much 
severity  as  her  slanderers  could  have  done,  "  I  ought 
to  have  heard  Garat  sing,  and  never  to  have  sung 
duets  with  him." 

The  indiscreet  zeal  of  Monsieur  Augeard  contrib- 
uted to  the  public  belief  that  the  Queen  disposed  of 
all  the  offices  of  finance.  He  had,  without  any  author- 
ity for  doing  so,  required  the  committee  of  fermiers- 
general  to  inform  him  of  all  vacancies,  assuring  them 
that  they  would  be  meeting  the  wishes  of  the  Queen. 
The  members  complied,  but  not  without  murmuring. 
When  the  Queen  became  aware  of  what  her  secretary 
had  done,  she  highly  disapproved  of  it,  caused  her 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  175 

resentment  to  be  made  known  to  the  fermiers-gencral, 
and  abstained  from  asking  for  appointments, — mak- 
ing only  one  request  of  the  kind,  as  a  marriage  por- 
tion for  one  of  her  attendants,  a  young  woman  of 
good  family. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  Queen  did  not  sufficiently  conceal  the  dis- 
satisfaction she  felt  at  having  been  unable  to 
prevent  the  appointment  of  M.  de  Calonne; 
she  even  one  day  went  so  far  as  to  say  at  the 
Duchess's,  in  the  midst  of  the  partisans  and  protectors 
of  that  minister,  that  the  finances  of  France  passed 
alternately  from  the  hands  of  an  honest  man  without 
talent  into  those  of  a  skilful  knave.  M.  de  Calonne 
was  thus  far  from  acting  in  concert  with  the  Queen 
all  the  time  that  he  continued  in  office;  and,  while 
dull  verses  were  circulated  about  Paris  describing 
the  Queen  and  her  favourite  dipping  at  pleasure  into 
the  coffers  of  the  comptroller-general,  the  Queen  was 
avoiding  all  communication  with  him. 

During  the  long  and  severe  winter  of  1783-84  the 
King  gave  three  millions  of  livres  for  the  relief  of 
the  indigent.  M.  de  Calonne,  who  felt  the  necessity 
of  making  advances  to  the  Queen,  caught  at  this 
opportunity  of  showing  her  respect  and  devotion. 
He  offered  to  place  in  her  hands  one  million  of  the 
three,  to  be  distributed  in  her  name  and  under  her 
direction.  His  proposal  was  rejected;  the  Queen 
answered  that  the  charity  ought  to  be  wholly  dis- 
tributed in  the  King's  name,  and  that  she  would  this 
year  debar  herself  of  even  the  slightest  enjoyments, 
in  order  to  contribute  all  her  savings  to  the  relief  of 
the  unfortunate. 

The  moment  M.  de  Calonne  left  the  closet  the 
Queen  sent  for  me :  "  Congratulate  me,  my  dear,"  said 
she;  "  I  have  just  escaped  a  snare,  or  at  least  a  mat- 

176 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  177 

ter  which  eventually  might  have  caused  me  much 
regret."  She  related  the  conversation  which  had 
taken  place  word  for  word  to  me,  adding,  "  That 
man  will  complete  the  ruin  of  the  national  finances. 
It  is  said  that  I  placed  him  in  his  situation.  The 
people  are  made  to  believe  that  I  am  extravagant; 
yet  I  have  refused  to  suffer  a  sum  of  money  from  the 
royal  treasury,  although  destined  for  the  most  laud- 
able purpose,  even  to  pass  through  my  hands." 

The  Queen,  making  monthly  retrenchments  from 
the  expenditure  of  her  privy  purse,  and  not  having 
spent  the  gifts  customary  at  the  period  of  her  confine- 
ment, was  in  possession  of  from  five  to  six  hundred 
thousand  francs,  her  own  savings.  She  made  use  of 
from  two  to  three  hundred  thousand  francs  of  this, 
which  her  first  women  sent  to  M.  Lenoir,  to  the  cures 
of  Paris  and  Versailles,  and  to  the  Sceurs  Hospita- 
lieres,  and  so  distributed  them  among  families  in  need. 

Desirous  to  implant  in  the  breast  of  her  daughter 
not  only  a  desire  to  succour  the  unfortunate,  but  those 
qualities  necessary  for  the  due  discharge  of  that  duty, 
the  Queen  incessantly  talked  to  her,  though  she  was 
yet  very  young,  about  the  sufferings  of  the  poor  dur- 
ing a  season  so  inclement.  The  Princess  already  had 
a  sum  of  from  eight  to  ten  thousand  francs  for  char- 
itable purposes,  and  the  Queen  made  her  distribute 
part  of  it  herself. 

Wishing  to  give  her  children  yet  another  lesson  of 
beneficence,  she  desired  me  on  New  Year's  eve  to  get 
from  Paris,  as  in  other  years,  all  the  fashionable  play- 
things, and  have  them  spread  out  in  her  closet.  Then 
taking  her  children  by  the  hand,  she  showed  them 
all  the  dolls  and  mechanical  toys  which  were  ranged 
there,  and  told  them  that  she  had  intended  to  give 
them  some  handsome  New  Year's  gifts,  but  that  the 
cold  made  the  poor  so  wretched  that  all  her  money 


i73  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

was  spent  in  blankets  and  clothes  to  protect  them 
from  the  rigour  of  the  season,  and  in  supplying  them 
with  bread;  so  that  this  year  they  would  only  have 
the  pleasure  of  looking  at  the  new  playthings.  When 
she  returned  with  her  children  into  her  sitting-room, 
she  said  there  was  still  an  unavoidable  expense  to  be 
incurred;  that  assuredly  many  mothers  would  at  that 
season  think  as  she  did, — that  the  toyman  must  lose 
by  it;  and  therefore  she  gave  him  fifty  louis  to  repay 
him  for  the  cost  of  his  journey,  and  console  him  for 
having  sold  nothing. 

The  purchase  of  St.  Cloud,  a  matter  very  simple  in 
itself,  had,  on  account  of  the  prevailing  spirit,  unfa- 
vourable consequences  to  the  Queen. 

The  palace  of  Versailles,  pulled  to  pieces  in  the 
interior  by  a  variety  of  new  arrangements,  and  mu- 
tilated in  point  of  uniformity  by  the  removal  of  the 
ambassadors'  staircase,  and  of  the  peristyle  of  col- 
umns placed  at  the  end  of  the  marble  court,  was 
equally  in  want  of  substantial  and  ornamental  repair. 
The  King  therefore  desired  M.  Micque  to  lay  before 
him  several  plans  for  the  repairs  of  the  palace.  He 
consulted  me  on  certain  arrangements  analogous  to 
some  of  those  adopted  in  the  Queen's  establishment, 
and  in  my  presence  asked  M.  Micque  how  much  money 
would  be  wanted  for  the  execution  of  the  whole  work, 
and  how  many  years  he  would  be  in  completing  it.  I 
forget  how  many  millions  were  mentioned :  M.  Micque 
replied  that  six  years  would  be  sufficient  time  if  the 
Treasury  made  the  necessary  periodical  advances  with- 
out any  delay.  "  And  how  many  years  shall  you 
require,"  said  the  King,  "  if  the  advances  are  not 
punctually  made?"  "Ten,  Sire,"  replied  the  archi- 
tect. "  We  must  then  reckon  upon  ten  years,"  said  his 
Majesty,  "  and  put  off  this  great  undertaking  until  the 
year   1790;  it  will  occupy  the  rest  of  the  century." 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  179 

The  King  afterwards  talked  of  the  depreciation  of 
property  which  took  place  at  Versailles  whilst  the 
Regent  removed  the  Court  of  Louis  XV.  to  the  Tuile- 
ries,  and  said  that  he  must  consider  how  to  prevent 
that  inconvenience;  it  was  the  desire  to  do  this  that 
promoted  the  purchase  of  St.  Cloud.  The  Queen  first 
thought  of  it  one  day  when  she  was  riding  out  with 
the  Duchesse  de  Polignac  and  the  Comtesse  Diane; 
she  mentioned  it  to  the  King,  who  was  much  pleased 
with  the  thought, — the  purchase  confirming  him  in 
the  intention,  which  he  had  entertained  for  ten  years, 
of  quitting  Versailles. 

The  King  determined  that  the  ministers,  public 
officers,  pages,  and  a  considerable  part  of  his  stabling 
should  remain  at  Versailles.  Messieurs  de  Breteuil 
and  de  Calonne  were  instructed  to  treat  with  the  Due 
d'Orleans  for  the  purchase  of  St.  Cloud;  at  first  they 
hoped  to  be  able  to  conclude  the  business  by  a  mere 
exchange.  The  value  of  the  Chateau  de  Choisy,  de 
la  Muette,  and  a  forest  was  equivalent  to  the  sum 
demanded  by  the  House  of  Orleans;  and  in  the  ex- 
change which  the  Queen  expected  she  only  saw  a  sav- 
ing to  be  made  instead  of  an  increase  of  expense.  By 
this  arrangement  the  government  of  Choisy,  in  the 
hands  of  the  Due  de  Coigny,  and  that  of  La  Muette, 
in  the  hands  of  the  Marechal  de  Soubise,  would  be 
suppressed.  At  the  same  time  the  two  concierges,  and 
all  the  servants  employed  in  these  two  royal  houses, 
would  be  reduced;  but  while  the  treaty  was  going 
forward  Messieurs  de  Breteuil  and  de  Calonne  gave 
up  the  point  of  exchange,  and  some  millions  in  cash 
were  substituted  for  Choisy  and  La  Muette. 

The  Queen  advised  the  King  to  give  her  St.  Cloud, 
as  a  means  of  avoiding  the  establishment  of  a  gov- 
ernor; her  plan  being  to  have  merely  a  concierge 
there,  by  which  means  the  governor's  expenses  would 


180  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

be  saved.  The  King  agreed,  and  St.  Cloud  was  pur- 
chased for  the  Queen.  She  provided  the  same  liver- 
ies for  the  porters  at  the  gates  and  servants  at  the 
chateau  as  for  those  at  Trianon.  The  concierge  at 
the  latter  place  had  put  up  some  regulations  for  the 
household,  headed,  "  By  order  of  the  Queen."  The 
same  thing  was  done  at  St.  Cloud.  The  Queen's 
livery  at  the  door  of  a  palace  where  it  was  expected 
none"  but  that  of  the  King  would  be  seen,  and  the 
words  "  By  order  of  the  Queen "  at  the  head  of 
the  printed  papers  pasted  near  the  iron  gates,  caused 
a  great  sensation,  and  produced  a  very  unfortunate 
effect,  not  only  among  the  common  people,  but  also 
among  persons  of  a  superior  class.  They  saw  in  it 
an  attack  upon  the  customs  of  monarchy,  and  cus- 
toms are  nearly  equal  to  laws.  The  Queen  heard  of 
this,  but  she  thought  that  her  dignity  would  be  com- 
promised if  she  made  any  change  in  the  form  of  these 
regulations,  though  they  might  have  been  altogether 
superseded  without  inconvenience.  "My  name  is  not 
out  of  place,"  said  she,  "  in  gardens  belonging  to  my- 
self; I  may  give  orders  there  without  infringing  on 
the  rights  of  the  State."  This  was  her  only  answer 
to  the  representations  which  a  few  faithful  servants 
ventured  to  make  on  the  subject.  The  discontent 
of  the  Parisians  on  this  occasion  probably  induced 
M.  d'Espremenil,  upon  the  first  troubles  about  the 
Parliament,  to  say  that  it  was  impolitic  and  immoral 
to  see  palaces  belonging  to  a  Queen  of  France. 

The  Queen  was  very  much  dissatisfied  with  the 
manner  in  which  M.  de  Calonne  had  managed  this 
matter.  The  Abbe  de  Vermond,  the  most  active  and 
persevering  of  that  minister's  enemies,  saw  with  de- 
light that  the  expedients  of  those  from  whom  alone 
new  resources  might  be  expected  were  gradually  be- 
coming exhausted,  because  the  period  when  the  Arch- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  181 

bishop  of  Toulouse  would  be  placed  over  the  finances 
was  thereby  hastened. 

The  royal  navy  had  resumed  an  imposing  attitude 
during  the  war  for  the  independence  of  America;  a 
glorious  peace  with  England  had  compensated  for  the 
former  attacks  of  our  enemies  upon  the  fame  of 
France;  and  the  throne  was  surrounded  by  numerous 
heirs.  The  sole  ground  of  uneasiness  was  in  the 
finances,  but  that  uneasiness  related  only  to  the  man- 
ner in  which  they  were  administered.  In  a  word, 
France  felt  confident  in  its  own  strength  and  re- 
sources, when  two  events,  which  seem  scarcely  worthy 
of  a  place  in  history,  but  which  have,  nevertheless,  an 
important  one  in  that  of  the  French  Revolution,  in- 
troduced a  spirit  of  ridicule  and  contempt,  not  only 
against  the  highest  ranks,  but  even  against  the  most 
august  personages.  I  allude  to  a  comedy  and  a  great 
swindling  transaction. 

Beaumarchais  had  long  possessed  a  reputation  in 
certain  circles  in  Paris  for  his  wit  and  musical  talents, 
and  at  the  theatres  for  dramas  more  or  less  indiffer- 
ent, when  his  "  Barbier  de  Seville "  procured  him 
a  higher  position  among  dramatic  writers.  His 
"  Memoirs  "  against  M.  Goesman  had  amused  Paris 
by  the  ridicule  they  threw  upon  a  Parliament  which 
was  disliked;  and  his  admission  to  an  intimacy  with 
M.  de  Maurepas  procured  him  a  degree  of  influence 
over  important  affairs.  He  then  became  ambitious  of 
influencing  public  opinion  by  a  kind  of  drama,  in 
which  established  manners  and  customs  should  be 
held  up  to  popular  derision  and  the  ridicule  of  the 
new  philosophers.  After  several  years  of  prosperity 
the  minds  of  the  French  had  become  more  generally 
critical;  and  when  Beaumarchais  had  finished  his 
monstrous  but  diverting  "  Mariage  de  Figaro,"  all 
people  of  any  consequence  were  eager  for  the  gratifi- 


182  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

cation  of  hearing  it  read,  the  censors  having  decided 
that  it  should  not  be  performed.  These  readings  of 
"  Figaro  "  grew  so  numerous  that  people  were  daily 
heard  to  say,  "  I  have  been  (or  I  am  going  to  be)  at 
the  reading  of  Beaumarchais's  play."  The  desire  to 
see  it  performed  became  universal;  an  expression 
that  he  had  the  art  to  use  compelled,  as  it  were,  the 
approbation  of  the  nobility,  or  of  persons  in  power, 
who  aimed  at  ranking  among  the  magnanimous;  he 
made  his  "  Figaro  "  say  that  "  none  but  little  minds 
dreaded  little  books."  The  Baron  de  Breteuil,  and 
all  the  men  of  Madame  de  Polignac's  circle,  entered 
the  lists  as  the  warmest  protectors  of  the  comedy. 
Solicitations  to  the  King  became  so  pressing  that  his 
Majesty  determined  to  judge  for  himself  of  a  work 
which  so  much  engrossed  public  attention,  and  de- 
sired me  to  ask  M.  Le  Noir,  lieutenant  of  police,  for 
the  manuscript  of  the  "  Mariage  de  Figaro."  One 
morning  I  received  a  note  from  the  Queen  ordering 
me  to  be  with  her  at  three  o'clock,  and  not  to  come 
without  having  dined,  for  she  would  detain  me  some 
time.  When  I  got  to  the  Queen's  inner  closet  I  found 
her  alone  with  the  King;  a  chair  and  a  small  table 
were  ready  placed  opposite  to  them,  and  upon  the 
table  lay  an  enormous  manuscript  in  several  books. 
The  King  said  to  me,  "  There  is  Beaumarchais's 
comedy;  you  must  read  it  to  us.  You  will  find  sev- 
eral parts  troublesome  on  account  of  the  erasures  and 
references.  I  have  already  run  it  over,  but  I  wish 
the  Queen  to  be  acquainted  with  the  work.  You  will 
not  mention  this  reading  to  any  one." 

I  began.  The  King  frequently  interrupted  me  by 
praise  or  censure,  which  was  always  just.  He  fre- 
quently exclaimed,  "  That's  in  bad  taste ;  this  man 
continually  brings  the  Italian  concetti  on  the  stage." 
At  that  soliloquy  of  Figaro  in  which  he  attacks  vari- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  183 

ous  points  of  government,  and  especially  at  the  tirade 
against  State  prisons,  the  King  rose  up  and  said,  indig- 
nantly : 

'That's  detestable;  that  shall  never  be  played;  the 
Bastille  must  be  destroyed  before  the  license  to  act 
this  play  can  be  any  other  than  an  act  of  the  most 
dangerous  inconsistency.  This  man  scoffs  at  every- 
thing that  should  be  respected  in  a  government." 

"  It  will  not  be  played,  then  ?  "  said  the  Queen. 

"No,  certainly,"  replied  Louis  XVI.;  "you  may 
rely  upon  that." 

Still  it  was  constantly  reported  that  "  Figaro  "  was 
about  to  be  performed;  there  were  even  wagers  laid 
upon  the  subject;  I  never  should  have  laid  any  my- 
self, fancying  that  I  was  better  informed  as  to  the 
probability  than  anybody  else;  if  I  had,  however,  I 
should  have  been  completely  deceived.  The  pro- 
tectors of  Beaumarchais,  feeling  certain  that  they 
would  succeed  in  their  scheme  of  making  his  work 
public  in  spite  of  the  King's  prohibition,  distributed 
the  parts  in  the  "  Mariage  de  Figaro  "  among  the 
actors  of  the  Theatre  Franc, ais.  Beaumarchais  had 
made  them  enter  into  the  spirit  of  his  characters,  and 
they  determined  to  enjoy  at  least  one  performance  of 
this  so-called  chef  d'ceuvre.  The  first  gentlemen  of 
the  chamber  agreed  that  M.  de  la  Ferte  should  lend 
the  theatre  of  the  Hotel  des  Menus  Plaisirs,  at  Paris, 
which  was  used  for  rehearsals  of  the  opera;  tickets 
were  distributed  to  a  vast  number  of  leaders  of  so- 
ciety; and  the  day  for  the  performance  was  fixed. 
The  King  heard  of  all  this  only  on  the  very  morning, 
and  signed  a  lettre  de  cachet,  which  prohibited  the 
performance.  When  the  messenger  who  brought 
the  order  arrived,  he  found  a  part  of  the  theatre  al- 
ready filled  with  spectators,  and  the  streets  leading 
to  the  Hotel  des  Menus  Plaisirs  filled  with  carriages; 


1 84  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  piece  was  not  performed.  This  prohibition  of  the 
King's  was  looked  upon  as  an  attack  on  public  liberty. 
The  disappointment  produced  such  discontent  that 
the  words  oppression  and  tyranny  were  uttered  with 
no  less  passion  and  bitterness  at  that  time  than  during 
the  days  which  immediately  preceded  the  downfall 
of  the  throne.  Beaumarchais  was  so  far  put  off  his 
guard  by  rage  as  to  exclaim,  "  Well,  gentlemen,  he 
won't  suffer  it  to  be  played  here;  but  I  swear  it 
shall  be  played, — perhaps  in  the  very  choir  of  Notre- 
Dame ! "  There  was  something  prophetic  in  these 
words.  It  was  generally  insinuated  shortly  after- 
wards that  Beaumarchais  had  determined  to  suppress 
all  those  parts  of  his  work  which  could  be  obnoxious 
to  the  Government;  and  on  pretence  of  judging  of  the 
sacrifices  made  by  the  author,  M.  de  Vaudreuil  ob- 
tained permission  to  have  this  far-famed  "  Mariage  de 
Figaro  "  performed  at  his  country  house.  M.  Campan 
was  asked  there;  he  had  frequently  heard  the  work 
read,  and  did  not  now  find  the  alterations  that  had  been 
announced ;  this  he  observed  to  several  persons  belong- 
ing to  the  Court,  who  maintained  that  the  author  had 
made  all  the  sacrifices  required.  M.  Campan  was  so 
astonished  at  these  persistent  assertions  of  an  obvious 
falsehood  that  he  replied  by  a  quotation  from  Beau- 
marchais himself,  and  assuming  the  tone  of  Basilio  in 
the  "  Barbier  de  Seville,"  he  said,  "  Faith,  gentlemen, 
I  don't  know  who  is  deceived  here;  everybody  is  in 
the  secret."  They  then  came  to  the  point,  and  begged 
him  to  tell  the  Queen  positively  that  all  which  had 
been  pronounced  reprehensible  in  M.  de  Beau- 
marchais's  play  had  been  cut  out.  My  father-in-law 
contented  himself  with  replying  that  his  situation  at 
Court  would  not  allow  of  his  giving  an  opinion  unless 
the  Queen  should  first  speak  of  the  piece  to  him.  The 
Queen  said  nothing  to  him  about  the  matter.     Shortly 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  185 

afterwards  permission  to  perform  this  play  was  at 
length  obtained.  The  Queen  thought  the  people  of 
Paris  would  be  finely  tricked  when  they  saw  merely 
an  ill-conceived  piece,  devoid  of  interest,  as  it  must 
appear  when  deprived  of  its  satire.  Under  the  per- 
suasion that  there  was  not  a  passage  left  capable  of 
malicious  or  dangerous  application,  Monsieur  attended 
the  first  performance  in  a  public  box.  The  mad  en- 
thusiasm of  the  public  in  favour  of  the  piece  and 
Monsieur's  just  displeasure  are  well  known.  The 
author  was  sent  to  prison  soon  afterwards,  though 
his  work  was  extolled  to  the  skies,  and  though  the 
Court  durst  not  suspend  its  performance. 

The  Queen  testified  her  displeasure  against  all  who 
had  assisted  the  author  of  the  "  Mariage  de  Figaro  " 
to  deceive  the  King  into  giving  his  consent  that  it 
should  be  represented.  Her  reproaches  were  more 
particularly  directed  against  M.  de  Vaudreuil  for  hav- 
ing had  it  performed  at  his  house.  The  violent  and 
domineering  disposition  of  her  favourite's  friend  at 
last  became  disagreeable  to  her. 

One  evening,  on  the  Queen's  return  from  the  Duch- 
ess's, she  desired  her  valet  de  chambre  to  bring  her 
billiard  cue  into  her  closet,  and  ordered  me  to  open 
the  box  that  contained  it.  I  took  out  the  cue,  broken 
in  two.  It  was  of  ivory,  and  formed  of  one  single 
elephant's  tooth;  the  butt  was  of  gold  and  very  taste- 
fully wrought.  "  There,"  said  she,  "  that  is  the  way 
M.  de  Vaudreuil  has  treated  a  thing  I  valued  highly. 
I  had  laid  it  upon  the  couch  while  I  was  talking  to  the 
Duchess  in  the  salon;  he  had  the  assurance  to  make 
use  of  it,  and  in  a  fit  of  passion  about  a  blocked  ball, 
he  struck  the  cue  so  violently  against  the  table  that 
he  broke  it  in  two.  The  noise  brought  me  back  into 
the  billiard-room;  I  did  not  say  a  word  to  him,  but 
my  looks  showed  him  how  angry  I  was.     He  is  the 


1 86  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

more  provoked  at  the  accident,  as  he  aspires  to  the 
post  of  Governor  to  the  Dauphin.  I  never  thought  of 
him  for  the  place.  It  is  quite  enough  to  have  con- 
sulted my  heart  only  in  the  choice  of  a  governess; 
and  I  will  not  suffer  that  of  a  Governor  to  the  Dau- 
phin to  be  at  all  affected  by  the  influence  of  my 
friends.  I  should  be  responsible  for  it  to  the  nation. 
The  poor  man  does  not  know  that  my  determination 
is  taken;  for  I  have  never  expressed  it  to  the  Duch- 
ess. Therefore,  judge  of  the  sort  of  an  evening  he 
must  have  passed!" 


CHAPTER  XIII 

SHORTLY  after  the  public  mind  had  been  thrown 
into  agitation  by  the  performance  of  the  "  Man- 
age de  Figaro,"  an  obscure  plot,  contrived  by 
swindlers,  and  matured  in  a  corrupted  society,  at- 
tacked the  Queen's  character  in  a  vital  point  and 
assailed  the  majesty  of  the  throne. 

I  am  about  to  speak  of  the  notorious  affair  of  the 
necklace  purchased,  as  it  was  said,  for  the  Queen  by 
Cardinal  de  Rohan.  I  will  narrate  all  that  has  come 
to  my  knowledge  relating  to  this  business;  the  most 
minute  particulars  will  prove  how  little  reason  the 
Queen  had  to  apprehend  the  blow  by  which  she  was 
threatened,  and  which  must  be  attributed  to  a  fatality 
that  human  providence  could  not  have  foreseen,  but 
from  which,  to  say  the  truth,  she  might  have  ex- 
tricated herself  with  more  skill. 

I  have  already  said  that  in  1774  the  Queen  pur- 
chased jewels  of  Bcehmer  to  the  value  of  three  hun- 
dred and  sixty  thousand  francs,  that  she  paid  for 
them  herself  out  of  her  own  private  funds,  and  that  it 
required  several  years  to  enable  her  to  complete  the 
payment.  The  King  afterwards  presented  her  with 
a  set  of  rubies  and  diamonds  of  a  fine  water,  and  sub- 
sequently with  a  pair  of  bracelets  worth  two  hundred 
thousand  francs.  The  Queen,  after  having  her  dia- 
monds reset  in  new  patterns,  told  Bcehmer  that  she 
found  her  jewel  case  rich  enough,  and  was  not  desir- 
ous of  making  any  addition  to  it.  Still,  this  jeweller 
busied  himself  for  some  years  in  forming  a  collection 
of  the   finest   diamonds   circulating   in   the   trade,   in 

187 


1 88  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

order  to  compose  a  necklace  of  several  rows,  which  he 
hoped  to  induce  her  Majesty  to  purchase;  he  brought 
it  to  M.  Campan,  requesting  him  to  mention  it  to  the 
Queen,  that  she  might  ask  to  see  it,  and  thus  be  in- 
duced to  wish  to  possess  it.    This  M.  Campan  refused 
to  do,  telling  him  that  he  should  be  stepping  out  of 
the  line  of  his  duty  were  he  to  propose  to  the  Queen 
an  expense  of  sixteen  hundred  thousand  francs,  and 
that  he  believed  neither  the  lady  of  honour  nor  the 
tirewoman  would  take  upon  herself  to  execute  such  a 
commission.     Bcehmer  persuaded  the  King's  first  gen- 
tleman for  the  year  to  show  this  superb  necklace  to 
his  Majesty,  who  admired  it  so  much  that  he  himself 
wished  to  see  the  Queen  adorned  with  it,  and  sent  the 
case  to  her;  but  she  assured  him  she  should  much  re- 
gret incurring  so  great  an  expense  for  such  an  article, 
that  she  had  already  very  beautiful  diamonds,   that 
jewels  of  that  description  were  now  worn  at  Court 
not  more  than   four  or  five  times  a  year,   that  the 
necklace  must  be  returned,  and  that  the  money  would 
be  much  better  employed  in  building  a  man-of-war. 
Bcehmer,  in  sad  tribulation  at  finding  his  expectations 
delusive,   endeavoured   for  some  time,   it   is   said,   to 
dispose  of  his  necklace  among  the  various  Courts  of 
Europe. 

A  year  after  his  fruitless  attempts,  Bcehmer  again 
caused  his  diamond  necklace  to  be  offered  to  the 
King,  proposing  that  it  should  be  paid  for  partly  by 
instalments,  and  partly  in  life  annuities;  this  proposal 
was  represented  as  highly  advantageous,  and  the  King, 
in  my  presence,  mentioned  the  matter  once  more  to 
the  Queen.  I  remember  the  Queen  told  him  that,  if 
the  bargain  really  was  not  bad,  he  might  make  it,  and 
keep  the  necklace  until  the  marriage  of  one  of  his 
children;  but  that,  for  her  part,  she  would  never  wear 
it,   being   unwilling  that   the   world   should   have   to 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  189 

reproach  her  with  having  coveted  so  expensive  an 
article.  The  King  replied  that  their  children  were 
too  young  to  justify  such  an  expense,  which  would  be 
greatly  increased  by  the  number  of  years  the  dia- 
monds would  remain  useless,  and  that  he  would  finally 
decline  the  offer.  Bcehmer  complained  to  everybody 
of  his  misfortune,  and  all  reasonable  people  blamed 
him  for  collecting  diamonds  to  so  considerable  an 
amount  without  any  positive  order  for  them.  This 
man  had  purchased  the  office  of  jeweller  to  the  Crown, 
which  gave  him  some  rights  of  entry  at  Court.  After 
several  months  spent  in  ineffectual  attempts  to  carry 
his  point,  and  in  idle  complaints,  he  obtained  an 
audience  of  the  Queen,  who  had  with  her  the  young 
Princess,  her  daughter;  her  Majesty  did  not  know 
for  what  purpose  Bcehmer  sought  this  audience,  and 
had  not  the  slightest  idea  that  it  was  to  speak  to  her 
again  about  an  article  twice  refused  by  herself  and 
the  King. 

Bcehmer  threw  himself  upon  his  knees,  clasped  his 
hands,  burst  into  tears,  and  exclaimed,  "  Madame,  I 
am  ruined  and  disgraced  if  you  do  not  purchase  my 
necklace.  I  cannot  outlive  so  many  misfortunes. 
When  I  go  hence  I  shall  throw  myself  into  the  river." 

"  Rise,  Bcehmer,"  said  the  Queen,  in  a  tone  suffi- 
ciently severe  to  recall  him  to  himself;  "  I  do  not  like 
these  rhapsodies;  honest  men  have  no  occasion  to  fall 
on  their  knees  to  make  their  requests.  If  you  were  to 
destroy  yourself  I  should  regret  you  as  a  madman  in 
whom  I  had  taken  an  interest,  but  I  should  not  be 
in  any  way  responsible  for  that  misfortune.  Not  only 
have  I  never  ordered  the  article  which  causes  your 
present  despair,  but  whenever  you  have  talked  to  me 
about  fine  collections  of  jewels  I  have  told  you  that 
I  should  not  add  four  diamonds  to  those  which  I 
already  possessed.     I  told  you  myself  that  I  declined 


iQO  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

taking  the  necklace;  the  King  wished  to  give  it  to 
me,  but  I  refused  him  also;  never  mention  it  to  me 
again.  Divide  it  and  try  to  sell  it  piecemeal,  and  do 
not  drown  yourself.  I  am  very  angry  with  you  for 
acting  this  scene  of  despair  in  my  presence  and  before 
this  child.  Let  me  never  see  you  behave  thus  again. 
Go."  Bcehmer  withdrew,  overwhelmed  with  confu- 
sion, and  nothing  further  was  then  heard  of  him. 

When  Madame  Sophie  was  born  the  Queen  told  me 
M.  de  Saint-James,  a  rich  financier,  had  apprised  her 
that  Bcehmer  was  still  intent  upon  the  sale  of  his 
necklace,  and  that  she  ought,  for  her  own  satisfaction, 
to  endeavour  to  learn  what  the  man  had  done  with  it; 
she  desired  me  the  first  time  I  should  meet  him  to 
speak  to  him  about  it,  as  if  from  the  interest  I  took 
in  his  welfare.  I  spoke  to  him  about  his  necklace, 
and  he  told  me  he  had  been  very  fortunate,  having 
sold  it  at  Constantinople  for  the  favourite  sultana. 
I  communicated  this  answer  to  the  Queen,  who  was 
delighted  with  it,  but  could  not  comprehend  how  the 
Sultan  came  to  purchase  his  diamonds  in  Paris. 

The  Queen  long  avoided  seeing  Bcehmer,  being  fear- 
ful of  his  rash  character;  and  her  valet  de  chambre, 
who  had  the  care  of  her  jewels,  made  the  necessary 
repairs  to  her  ornaments  unassisted.  On  the  bap- 
tism of  the  Due  d'Angouleme,  in  1785,  the  King  gave 
him  a  diamond  epaulet  and  buckles,  and  directed 
Bcehmer  to  deliver  them  to  the  Queen.  Bcehmer 
presented  them  on  her  return  from  mass,  and  at  the 
same  time  gave  into  her  hands  a  letter  in  the  form 
of  a  petition.  In  this  paper  he  told  the  Queen 
that  he  was  happy  to  see  her  "  in  possession  of  the 
finest  diamonds  known  in  Europe,"  and  entreated  her 
not  to  forget  him.  The  Queen  read  Bcehmer's  address 
to  her  aloud,  and  saw  nothing  in  it  but  a  proof  of 
mental   aberration;   she   lighted  the  paper   at  a  wax 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  191 

taper  standing  near  her,  as  she  had  some  letters  to 
seal,  saying,  "  It  is  not  worth  keeping."  She  after- 
wards much  regretted  the  loss  of  this  enigmatical 
memorial.  After  having  burnt  the  paper,  her  Maj- 
esty said  to  me,  "  That  man  is  born  to  be  my  torment; 
he  has  always  some  mad  scheme  in  his  head;  remem- 
ber, the  first  time  you  see  him,  to  tell  him  that  I  do 
not  like  diamonds  now,  and  that  I  will  buy  no  more 
so  long  as  I  live;  that  if  I  had  any  money  to  spare 
I  would  rather  add  to  my  property  at  St.  Cloud  by 
the  purchase  of  the  land  surrounding  it;  now,  mind 
you  enter  into  all  these  particulars  and  impress  them 
well  upon  him."  I  asked  her  whether  she  wished 
me  to  send  for  him;  she  replied  in  the  negative,  add- 
ing that  it  would  be  sufficient  to  avail  myself  of  the 
first  opportunity  afforded  by  meeting  him;  and  that 
the  slightest  advance  towards  such  a  man  would  be 
misplaced. 

On  the  1  st  of  August  I  left  Versailles  for  my 
country  house  at  Crespy;  on  the  3d  came  Boehmer, 
extremely  uneasy  at  not  having  received  any  answer 
from  the  Queen,  to  ask  me  whether  I  had  any  commis- 
sion frorrfher  to  him;  I  replied  that  she  had  entrusted 
me  with  none;  that  she  had  no  commands  for  him, 
and  I  faithfully  repeated  all  she  had  desired  me  to  say 
to  him. 

"  But,"  said  Boehmer,  "  the  answer  to  the  letter  I 
presented  to  her, — to  whom  must  I  apply  for  that  ?  " 

"To  nobody,"  answered  I;  "her  Majesty  burnt 
your  memorial  without  even  comprehending  its  mean- 
ing." 

"  Ah!  madame,"  exclaimed  he,  "  that  is  impossible; 
the  Queen  knows  that  she  has  money  to  pay  me!" 

"Money,  M.  Boehmer?  Your  last  accounts  against 
the  Queen  were  discharged  long  ago." 

"  Madame,  you  are  not  in  the  secret.     A  man  who 


192  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

is  ruined  for  want  of  payment  of  fifteen  hundred  thou- 
sand francs  cannot  be  said  to  be  satisfied." 

"  Have  you  lost  your  senses?  "  said  I.  "  For  what 
can  the  Queen  owe  you  so  extravagant  a  sum  ?  " 

"  For  my  necklace,  madame,"  replied  Bcehmer, 
coolly. 

"  What !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  that  necklace  again,  which 
you  have  teased  the  Queen  about  so  many  years !  Did 
you  not  tell  me  you  had  sold  it  at  Constantinople?  " 

"  The  Queen  desired  me  to  give  that  answer  to  all 
who  should  speak  to  me  on  the  subject,"  said  the 
wretched  dupe.  He  then  told  me  that  the  Queen 
wished  to  have  the  necklace,  and  had  had  it  purchased 
for  her  by  Monseigneur,  the  Cardinal  de  Rohan. 

'You  are  deceived,"  I  exclaimed;  "the  Queen  has 
not  once  spoken  to  the  Cardinal  since  his  return  from 
Vienna;  there  is  not  a  man  at  her  Court  less  favour- 
ably looked  upon." 

"  You  are  deceived  yourself,  madame,"  said  Bceh- 
mer; "she  sees  him  so  much  in  private  that  it  was 
to  his  Eminence  she  gave  thirty  thousand  francs, 
which  were  paid  me  as  an  instalment;  she  took  them, 
in  his  presence,  out  of  the  little  secretaire  of  Sevres 
porcelain  next  the  fireplace  in  her  boudoir." 

"And  the  Cardinal  told  you  all  this?" 
.    "  Yes,  madame,  himself." 

"  What  a  detestable  plot !  "  cried  I. 

"  Indeed,  to  say  the  truth,  madame,  I  begin  to  be 
much  alarmed,  for  his  Eminence  assured  me  that  the 
Queen  would  wear  the  necklace  on  Whit-Sunday,  but 
I  did  not  see  it  upon  her,  and  it  was  that  which 
induced  me  to  write  to  her  Majesty." 

He  then  asked  me  what  he  ought  to  do.  I  advised 
him  to  go  on  to  Versailles,  instead  of  returning  to 
Paris,  whence  he  had  just  arrived;  to  obtain  an  imme- 
diate audience  from  the  Baron  de  Breteuil,  who,  as 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  193 

head  of  the  King's  household,  was  the  minister  of  the 
department  to  which  Bcehmer  belonged,  and  to  be 
circumspect;  and  I  added  that  he  appeared  to  me 
extremely  culpable, — not  as  a  diamond  merchant, 
but  because  being  a  sworn  officer  it  was  unpardonable 
of  him  to  have  acted  without  the  direct  orders  of  the 
King,  the  Queen,  or  the  Minister.  He  answered,  that 
he  had  not  acted  without  direct  orders;  that  he  had  in 
his  possession  all  the  notes  signed  by  the  Queen,  and 
that  he  had  even  been  obliged  to  show  them  to  several 
bankers  in  order  to  induce  them  to  extend  the  time 
for  his  payments.  I  urged  his  departure  for  Ver- 
sailles, and  he  assured  me  he  would  go  there  imme- 
diately. Instead  of  following  my  advice,  he  went  to 
the  Cardinal,  and  it  was  of  this  visit  of  Bcehmer's 
that  his  Eminence  made  a  memorandum,  found  in 
a  drawer  overlooked  by  the  Abbe  Georgel  when  he 
burnt,  by  order  of  the  Cardinal,  all  the  papers  which 
the  latter  had  at  Paris.  The  memorandum  was  thus 
worded :  "  On  this  day,  3d  August,  Bcehmer  went  to 
Madame  Campan's  country  house,  and  she  told  him 
that  the  Queen  had  never  had  his  necklace,  and  that 
he  had  been  deceived." 

When  Bcehmer  was  gone,  I  wanted  to  follow  him, 
and  go  to  the  Queen;  my  father-in-law  prevented 
me,  and  ordered  me  to  leave  the  minister  to  elucidate 
such  an  important  affair,  observing  that  it  was  an 
infernal  plot;  that  I  had  given  Bcehmer  the  best 
advice,  and  had  nothing  more  to  do  with  the  busi- 
ness. Bcehmer  never  said  one  word  to  me  about  the 
woman  De  Lamotte,  and  her  name-was  mentioned  for 
the  first  time  by  the  Cardinal  in  his  answers  to  the 
interrogatories  put  to  him  before  the  King.  After 
seeing  the  Cardinal,  Bcehmer  went  to  Trianon,  and 
sent  a  message  to  the  Queen,  purporting  that  I  had 
advised  him  to  come  and  speak  to  her.     His  very 


i94  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

words  were  repeated  to  her  Majesty,  who  said,  "  He 
is  mad;  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  him,  and  will  not 
see  him."  Two  or  three  days  afterwards  the  Queen 
sent  for  me  to  Petit  Trianon,  to  rehearse  with  me  the 
part  of  Rosina,  which  she  was  to  perform  in  the  "  Bar- 
bier  de  Seville."  I  was  alone  with  her,  sitting  upon 
her  couch;  no  mention  was  made  of  anything  but  the 
part.  After  we  had  spent  an  hour  in  the  rehearsal, 
her  Majesty  asked  me  why  I  had  sent  Bcehmer  to  her; 
saying  he  had  been  in  my  name  to  speak  to  her,  and 
that  she  would  not  see  him.  It  was  in  this  manner 
I  learnt  that  he  had  not  followed  my  advice  in  the 
slightest  degree.  The  change  of  my  countenance, 
when  I  heard  the  man's  name,  was  very  perceptible; 
the  Queen  perceived  it,  and  questioned  me.  I  en- 
treated her  to  see  him,  and  assured  her  it  was  of  the 
utmost  importance  for  her  peace  of  mind;  that  there 
was  a  plot  going  on,  of  which  she  was  not  aware;  and 
that  it  was  a  serious  one,  since  engagements  signed 
bv  herself  were  shown  about  to  people  who  had  lent 
Bcehmer  money.  Her  surprise  and  vexation  were 
great.  She  desired  me  to  remain  at  Trianon,  and  sent 
off  a  courier  to  Paris,  ordering  Bcehmer  to  come  to 
her  upon  some  pretext  which  has  escaped  my  recollec- 
tion. He  came  next  morning;  in  fact  it  was  the  day 
on  which  the  play  was  performed,  and  that  was  the 
last  amusement  the  Queen  allowed  herself  at  that 
retreat. 

The  Queen  made  him  enter  her  closet,  and  asked 
him  by  what  fatality  it  was  that  she  was  still  doomed 
to  hear  of  his  foolish  pretence  of  selling  her  an  article 
which  she  had  steadily  refused  for  several  years.  He 
replied  that  he  was  compelled,  being  unable  to  pacify 
his  creditors  any  longer.  "  What  are  your  creditors 
to  me?"  said  her  Majesty.  Bcehmer  then  regularly 
related  to  her  all  that  he  had  been  made  to  believe 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  195 

had  passed  between  the  Queen  and  himself  through 
the  intervention  of  the  Cardinal.  She  was  equally 
incensed  and  surprised  at  each  thing  she  heard.  In 
vain  did  she  speak;  the  jeweller,  equally  importunate 
and  dangerous,  repeated  incessantly,  "  Madame,  there 
is  no  longer  time  for  feigning;  condescend  to  confess 
that  you  have  my  necklace,  and  let  some  assistance 
be  given  to  me,  or  my  bankruptcy  will  soon  bring  the 
whole  to  light." 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  how  the  Queen  must  have 
suffered.  On  Bcehmer's  going  away,  I  found  her  in 
an  alarming  condition;  the  idea  that  any  one  could 
have  believed  that  such  a  man  as  the  Cardinal 
possessed  her  full  confidence;  that  she  should  have 
employed  him  to  deal  with  a  tradesman  without  the 
King's  knowledge,  for  a  thing  which  she  had  refused 
to  accept  from  the  King  himself,  drove  her  to  des- 
peration. She  sent  first  for  the  Abbe  de  Vermond, 
and  then  for  the  Baron  de  Breteuil.  Their  hatred 
and  contempt  for  the  Cardinal  made  them  too  easily 
forget  that  the  lowest  faults  do  not  prevent  the  higher 
orders  of  the  empire  from  being  defended  by  those  to 
whom  they  have  the  honour  to  belong;  that  a  Rohan, 
a  Prince  of  the  Church,  however  culpable  he  might 
be,  would  be  sure  to  have  a  considerable  party  which 
would  naturally  be  joined  by  all  the  discontented 
persons  of  the  Court,  and  all  the  frondeurs  of  Paris. 
They  too  easily  believed  that  he  would  be  stripped  of 
all  the  advantages  of  his  rank  and  order,  and  given 
up  to  the  disgrace  due  to  his  irregular  conduct;  they 
deceived  themselves. 

I  saw  the  Queen  after  the  departure  of  the  Baron 
and  the  Abbe;  her  agitation  made  me  shudder. 
"  Fraud  must  be  unmasked,"  said  she;  "  when  the 
Roman  purple  and  the  title  of  Prince  cover  a  mere 
money-seeker,  a  cheat  who  dares  to  compromise  the 

Vol.  3  Memoirs — 7 


196  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

wife  of  his  sovereign,  France  and  all  Europe  should 
know  it."  It  is  evident  that  from  that  moment  the 
fatal  plan  was  decided  on.  The  Queen  perceived  my 
alarm;  I  did  not  conceal  it  from  her.  I  knew  too 
well  that  she  had  many  enemies  not  to  be  apprehen- 
sive on  seeing  her  attract  the  attention  of  the  whole 
world  to  an  intrigue  that  they  would  try  to  complicate 
still  more.  I  entreated  her  to  seek  the  most  prudent 
and  moderate  advice.  She  silenced  me  by  desiring 
me  to  make  myself  easy,  and  to  rest  satisfied  that  no 
imprudence  would  be  committed. 

On  the  following  Sunday,  the  15th  of  August, 
being  the  Assumption,  at  twelve  o'clock,  at  the  very 
moment  when  the  Cardinal,  dressed  in  his  pontifical 
garments,  was  about  to  proceed  to  the  chapel,  he  was 
sent  for  into  the  King's  closet,  where  the  Queen  then 
was. 

The  King  said  to  him,  "  You  have  purchased  dia- 
monds of  Boehmer?" 

"Yes,   Sire." 

"What  have  you  done  with  them?" 

"  I  thought  they  had  been  delivered  to  the  Queen." 

"Who  commissioned  you?" 

"  A  lady,  called  the  Comtesse  de  Lamotte-Valois, 
who  handed  me  a  letter  from  the  Queen  ;^  and  I 
thought  I  was  gratifying  her  Majesty  by  taking  this 
business  on  myself." 

The  Queen  here  interrupted  him,  and  said,  "  How, 
monsieur,  could  you  believe  that  I  should  select  you, 
to  whom  I  have  not  spoken  for  eight  years,  to  nego- 
tiate anything  for  me,  and  especially  through  the 
mediation  of  a  woman  whom  I  do  not  even  know  ?  " 

"  I  see  plainly,"  said  the  Cardinal,  "  that  I  have 
been  duped.  I  will  pay  for  the  necklace;  my  desire 
to  please  your  Majesty  blinded  me;  I  suspected  no 
trick  in  the  affair,  and  I  am  sorry  for  it." 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  197 

He  then  took  out  of  his  pocket-book  a  letter  from 
the  Queen  to  Madame  de  Lamotte,  giving  him  this 
commission.  The  King  took  it  and,  holding  it  towards 
the  Cardinal,  said: 

"  This  is  neither  written  nor  signed  by  the  Queen. 
How  could  a  Prince  of  the  House  of  Rohan,  and  a 
Grand  Almoner  of  France,  ever  think  that  the  Queen 
would  sign  Marie  Antoinette  de  France ?  Everybody 
knows  that  queens  sign  only  by  their  baptismal 
names.  But,  monsieur,"  pursued  the  King,  handing 
him  a  copy  of  his  letter  to  Bcehmer,  "  have  you  ever 
written  such  a  letter  as  this  ?  " 

Having  glanced  over  it,  the  Cardinal  said,  "  I  do 
not  remember  having  written  it." 

"  But  what  if  the  original,  signed  by  yourself,  were 
shown  to  you  ?  " 

"  If  the  letter  be  signed  by  myself  it  is  genuine." 

He  was  extremely  confused,  and  repeated  several 
times,  "  I  have  been  deceived,  Sire;  I  will  pay  for 
the  necklace.     I  ask  pardon  of  your  Majesties." 

"  Then  explain  to  me,"  resumed  the  King,  "  the 
whole  of  this  enigma.  I  do  not  wish  to  find  you 
guilty;  I  had  rather  you  would  justify  yourself.  Ac- 
count for  all  the  manoeuvres  with  Bcehmer,  these 
assurances  and  these  letters." 

The  Cardinal  then,  turning  pale,  and  leaning 
against  the  table,  said,  "  Sire,  I  am  too  much  con- 
fused to  answer  your  Majesty  in  a  way " 

"  Compose  yourself,  Cardinal,  and  go  into  my 
cabinet;  you  will  there  find  paper,  pens,  and  ink, — 
write  what  you  have  to  say  to  me." 

The  Cardinal  went  into  the  King's  cabinet,  and 
returned  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards  with  a 
document  as  confused  as  his  verbal  answers  had  been. 
The  King  then  said,  "  Withdraw,  monsieur."  The 
Cardinal  left  the  King's  chamber,  with  the  Baron  de 


198  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

Breteuil,  who  gave  him  in  custody  to  a  lieutenant  of 
the  Body  Guard,  with  orders  to  take  him  to  his 
apartment.  M.  d'Agoult,  aide-major  of  the  Body 
Guard,  afterwards  took  him  into  custody,  and  con- 
ducted him  to  his  hotel,  and  thence  to  the  Bastille. 
But  while  the  Cardinal  had  with  him  only  the  young 
lieutenant  of  the  Body  Guard,  who  was  much  em- 
barrassed at  having  such  an  order  to  execute,  his 
Eminence  met  his  hey  due  at  the  door  of  the  Salon 
of  Hercules;  he  spoke  to  him  in  German,  and  then 
asked  the  lieutenant  if  he  could  lend  him  a  pencil; 
the  officer  gave  him  that  which  he  carried  about  him, 
and  the  Cardinal  wrote  to  the  Abbe  Georgel,  his  grand 
vicar  and  friend,  instantly  to  burn  all  Madame  de 
Lamotte's  correspondence,  and  all  his  other  letters. 
This  commission  was  executed  before  M.  de  Crosne, 
lieutenant  of  police,  had  received  an  order  from  the 
Baron  de  Breteuil  to  put  seals  upon  the  Cardinal's 
papers.  The  destruction  of  all  his  Eminence's  cor- 
respondence, and  particularly  that  with  Madame  de 
Lamotte,  threw  an  impenetrable  cloud  over  the  whole 
affair. 

From  that  moment  all  proofs  of  this  intrigue  dis- 
appeared. Madame  de  Lamotte  was  apprehended  at 
Bar-sur-Aube;  her  husband  had  already  gone  to  Eng- 
land. From  the  beginning  of  this  fatal  affair  all 
the  proceedings  of  the  Court  appear  to  have  been 
prompted  by  imprudence  and  want  of  foresight;  the 
obscurity  resulting  left  free  scope  for  the  fables  of 
which  the  voluminous  memorials  written  on  one  side 
and  the  other  consisted.  The  Queen  so  little  imag- 
ined what  could  have  given  rise  to  the  intrigue,  of 
which  she  was  about  to  become  the  victim,  that,  at  the 
moment  when  the  King  was  interrogating  the  Car- 
dinal, a  terrific  idea  entered  her  mind.  With  that 
rapidity  of  thought  caused  by  personal  interest  and 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  199 

extreme  agitation,  she  fancied  that,  if  a  design  to  ruin 
her  in  the  eyes  of  the  King  and  the  French  people 
were  the  concealed  motive  of  this  intrigue,  the  Cardi- 
nal would,  perhaps,  affirm  that  she  had  the  necklace; 
that  he  had  been  honoured  with  her  confidence  for 
this  purchase,  made  without  the  King's  knowledge; 
and  point  out  some  secret  place  in  her  apartment, 
where  he  might  have  got  some  villain  to  hide  it. 
Want  of  money  and  the  meanest  swindling  were  the 
sole  motives  for  this  criminal  affair.  The  neck- 
lace had  already  been  taken  to  pieces  and  sold, 
partly  in  London,  partly  in  Holland,  and  the  rest  in 
Paris. 

The  moment  the  Cardinal's  arrest  was  known  a  uni- 
versal clamour  arose.  Every  memorial  that  appeared 
during  the  trial  increased  the  outcry.  On  this  occa- 
sion the  clergy  took  that  course  which  a  little  wisdom 
and  the  least  knowledge  of  the  spirit  of  such  a  body 
ought  to  have  foreseen.  The  Rohans  and  the  House 
of  Conde,  as  well  as  the  clergy,  made  their  complaints 
heard  everywhere.  The  King  consented  to  having  a 
legal  judgment,  and  early  in  September  he  addressed 
letters-patent  to  the  Parliament,  in  which  he  said  that 
he  was  "  filled  with  the  most  just  indignation  on  see- 
ing the  means  which,  by  the  confession  of  his  Emi- 
nence the  Cardinal,  had  been  employed  in  order  to 
inculpate  his  most  dear  spouse  and  companion." 

Fatal  moment!  in  which  the  Queen  found  herself, 
in  consequence  of  this  highly  impolitic  step,  on  trial 
with  a  subject,  who  ought  to  have  been  dealt  with  by 
the  power  of  the  King  alone.  The  Princes  and  Prin- 
cesses of  the  House  of  Conde,  and  of  the  Houses  of 
Rohan,  Soubise,  and  Guemenee,  put  on  mourning,  and 
were  seen  ranged  in  the  way  of  the  members  of  the 
Grand  Chamber  to  salute  them  as  they  proceeded  to 
the  palace,  on  the  days  of  the  Cardinal's  trial;  and 


-oo  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

Princes  of  the  blood  openly  canvassed  against  the 
Queen  of  France. 

The  Pope  wished  to  claim,  on  behalf  of  the  Cardi- 
nal de  Rohan,  the  right  belonging  to  his  ecclesiastical 
rank,  and  demanded  that  he  should  be  judged  at 
Rome.  The  Cardinal  de  Bernis,  ambassador  from 
France  to  his  Holiness,  formerly  Minister  for  Foreign 
Affairs,  blending  the  wisdom  of  an  old  diplomatist 
with  the  principles  of  a  Prince  of  the  Church,  wished 
that  this  scandalous  affair  should  be  hushed  up.  The 
King's  aunts,  who  were  on  very  intimate  terms  with 
the  ambassador,  adopted  his  opinion,  and  the  conduct 
of  the  King  and  Queen  was  equally  and  loudly  cen- 
sured in  the  apartments  of  Versailles  and  in  the  hotels 
and  coffee-houses  of  Paris. 

Madame,  the  King's  sister-in-law,  had  been  the  sole 
protectress  of  De  Lamotte,  and  had  confined  her  pat- 
ronage to  granting  her  a  pension  of  twelve  to  fifteen 
hundred  francs.  Her  brother  was  in  the  navy,  but 
the  Marquis  de  Chabert,  to  whom  he  had  been  recom- 
mended, could  never  train  a  good  officer.  The  Queen 
in  vain  endeavoured  to  call  to  mind  the  features  of 
this  person,  of  whom  she  had  often  heard  as  an  in- 
triguing woman,  who  came  frequently  on  Sundays  to 
the  gallery  of  Versailles.  At  the  time  when  all 
France  was  engrossed  by  the  persecution  against  the 
Cardinal,  the  portrait  of  the  Comtesse  de  Lamotte- 
Valois  was  publicly  sold.  Her  Majesty  desired  me 
one  day,  when  I  was  going  to  Paris,  to  buy  her  the 
engraving,  which  was  said  to  be  a  tolerable  likeness, 
that  she  might  ascertain  whether  she  could  recognise 
in  it  any  person  whom  she  might  have  seen  in  the 
gallery. 

The  woman  De  Lamotte's  father  was  a  peasant  at 
Auteuil,  though  he  called  himself  Valois.  Madame 
de   Boulainvilliers   once   saw    from   her   terrace   two 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  201 

pretty  little  peasant  girls,  each  labouring  under  a 
heavy  bundle  of  sticks.  The  priest  of  the  village,  who 
was  walking  with  her,  told  her  that  the  children  pos- 
sessed some  curious  papers,  and  that  he  had  no  doubt 
they  were  descendants  of  a  Valois,  an  illegitimate 
son  of  one  of  the  princes  of  that  name. 

The  family  of  Valois  had  long  ceased  to  appear  in 
the  world.  Hereditary  vices  had  gradually  plunged 
them  into  the  deepest  misery.  I  have  heard  that  the 
last  Valois  then  known  occupied  the  estate  called 
Gros  Bois;  that  as  he  seldom  came  to  Court,  Louis 
XIII.  asked  him  what  he  was  about  that  he  remained 
so  constantly  in  the  country;  and  that  this  M.  de  Va- 
lois merely  answered,  "  Sire,  I  only  do  there  what  I 
ought."  It  was  shortly  afterwards  discovered  that 
he  was  coining. 

Neither  the  Queen  herself  nor  any  one  near  her 
ever  had  the  slightest  connection  with  the  woman  De 
Lamotte;  and  during  her  prosecution  she  could  point 
out  but  one  of  the  Queen's  servants,  named  Desclos,  a 
valet  of  the  Queen's  bedchamber,  to  whom  she  pre- 
tended she  had  delivered  Bcehmer's  necklace.  This 
Desclos  was  a  very  honest  man;  upon  being  confronted 
with  the  woman  De  Lamotte,  it  was  proved  that  she 
had  never  seen  him  but  once,  which  was  at  the  house 
of  the  wife  of  a  surgeon-accoucheur  at  Versailles,  the 
only  person  she  visited  at  Court ;  and  that  she  had 
not  given  him  the  necklace.  Madame  de  Lamotte 
married  a  private  in  Monsieur's  body-guard;  she 
lodged  at  Versailles  at  the  Belle  Image,  a  very  in- 
ferior furnished  house;  and  it  is  inconceivable  how  so 
obscure  a  person  could  succeed  in  making  herself 
believed  to  be  a  friend  of  the  Queen,  who,  though  so 
extremely  affable,  seldom  granted  audiences,  and  only 
to  titled  persons. 

The  trial  of  the  Cardinal  is  too  generally  known 


202  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

to  require  me  to  repeat  its  details  here.  The  point 
most  embarrassing  to  him  was  the  interview  he  had 
in  February,  1785,  with  M.  de  Saint-James,  to  whom 
he  confided  the  particulars  of  the  Queen's  pretended 
commission,  and  showed  the  contract  approved  and 
signed  Marie  Antoinette  de  Frajice.  The  memoran- 
dum found  in  a  drawer  of  the  Cardinal's  bureau,  in 
which  he  had  himself  written  what  Bcehmer  told  him 
after  having  seen  me  at  my  country  house,  was  like- 
wise an  unfortunate  document  for  his  Eminence. 

I  offered  to  the  King  to  go  and  declare  that 
Bcehmer  had  told  me  that  the  Cardinal  assured  him 
he  had  received  from  the  Queen's  own  hand  the  thirty 
thousand  francs  given  on  account  upon  the  bargain 
being  concluded,  and  that  his  Eminence  had  seen  her 
Majesty  take  that  sum  in  bills  from  the  porcelain  sec- 
retaire in  her  boudoir.  The  King  declined  my  offer, 
and  said  to  me,  "  Were  you  alone  when  Bcehmer  told 
you  this?"  I  answered  that  I  was  alone  with  him 
in  my  garden.  "  Well,"  resumed  he,  "  the  man  would 
deny  the  fact;  he  is  now  sure  of  being  paid  his  six- 
teen hundred  thousand  francs,  which  the  Cardinal's 
family  will  find  it  necessary  to  make  good  to  him; 
we  can  no  longer  rely  upon  his  sincerity;  it  would 
look  as  if  you  were  sent  by  the  Queen,  and  that  would 
not  be  proper." 

The  procureur-general' s  information  was  severe  on 
the  Cardinal.  The  Houses  of  Conde  and  Rohan  and 
the  majority  of  the  nobility  saw  in  this  affair  only  an 
attack  on  the  Prince's  rank,  the  clergy  only  a  blow 
aimed  at  the  privileges  of  a  cardinal.  The  clergy 
demanded  that  the  unfortunate  business  of  the  Prince 
Cardinal  de  Rohan  should  be  submitted  to  ecclesiasti- 
cal jurisdiction,  and  the  Archbishop  of  Narbonne,  then 
President  of  the  Convocation,  made  representations 
upon  the  subject  to  the  King;   the  bishops  wrote  to 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  203 

his  Majesty  to  remind  him  that  a  private  ecclesiastic 
implicated  in  the  affair  then  pending  would  have 
a  right  to  claim  his  constitutional  judges,  and  that 
this  right  was  refused  to  a  cardinal,  his  superior 
in  the  hierarchical  order.  In  short,  the  clergy  and 
the  greater  part  of  the  nobility  were  at  that  time 
outrageous  against  authority,  and  chiefly  against  the 
Queen. 

The  procureur-gcncral's  conclusions,  and  those  of  a 
part  of  the  heads  of  the  magistracy,  were  as  severe 
towards  the  Cardinal  as  the  information  had  been; 
yet  he  was  fully  acquitted  by  a  majority  of  three 
voices;  the  woman  De  Lamotte  was  condemned  to  be 
whipped,  branded,  and  imprisoned;  and  her  husband, 
for  contumacy,  was  condemned  to  the  galleys  for 
life. 

M.  Pierre  de  Laurencel,  the  procureur-gencral's 
substitute,  sent  the  Queen  a  list  of  the  names  of  the 
members  of  the  Grand  Chamber,  with  the  means 
made  use  of  by  the  friends  of  the  Cardinal  to  gain 
their  votes  during  the  trial.  I  had  this  list  to  keep 
among  the  papers  which  the  Queen  deposited  in  the 
house  of  M.  Campan,  my  father-in-law,  and  which,  at 
his  death,  she  ordered  me  to  preserve.  I  burnt  this 
statement,  but  I  remember  ladies  performed  a  part 
not  very  creditable  to  their  principles ;  it  was  by  them, 
in  consideration  of  large  sums  which  they  received, 
that  some  of  the  oldest  and  most  respected  members 
were  won  over.  I  did  not  see  a  single  name  amongst 
the  whole  Parliament  that  was  gained  directly. 

The  belief  confirmed  by  time  is,  that  the  Cardinal 
was  completely  duped  by  the  woman  De  Lamotte  and 
Cagliostro.  The  King  may  have  been  in  error  in 
thinking  him  an  accomplice  in  this  miserable  and 
criminal  scheme,  but  I  have  faithfully  repeated  his 
Majesty's  judgment  about  it. 


204  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

However,  the  generally  received  opinion  that  the 
Baron  de  Breteuil's  hatred  for  the  Cardinal  was  the 
cause  of  the  scandal  and  the  unfortunate  result  of  this 
affair  contributed  to  the  disgrace  of  the  former  still 
more  than  his  refusal  to  give  his  granddaughter  in 
marriage  to  the  son  of  the  Due  de  Polignac.  The 
Abbe  de  Vermond  threw  the  whole  blame  of  the  im- 
prudence and  impolicy  of  the  affair  of  the  Cardinal 
de  Rohan  upon  the  minister,  and  ceased  to  be  the 
friend  and  supporter  of  the  Baron  de  Breteuil  with 
the  Queen. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  year  1786,  the  Cardinal, 
as  has  been  said,  was  fully  acquitted,  and  came  out 
of  the  Bastille,  while  Madame  de  Lamotte  was  con- 
demned to  be  whipped,  branded,  and  imprisoned. 
The  Court,  persisting  in  the  erroneous  views  which 
had  hitherto  guided  its  measures,  conceived  that  the 
Cardinal  and  the  woman  De  Lamotte  were  equally 
culpable  and  unequally  punished,  and  sought  to  re- 
store the  balance  of  justice  by  exiling  the  Cardinal  to 
La  Chaise-Dieu,  and  suffering  Madame  de  Lamotte 
to  escape  a  few  days  after  she  entered  l'Hopital.  This 
new  error  confirmed  the  Parisians  in  the  idea  that 
the  wretch  De  Lamotte,  who  had  never  been  able  to 
make  her  way  so  far  as  to  the  room  appropriated 
to  the  Queen's  women,  had  really  interested  the  Queen 
herself. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  Abbe  de  Vermond  could  not  repress  his 
exultation  when  he  succeeded  in  getting  the 
Archbishop  of  Sens  appointed  head  of  the 
council  of  finance.  I  have  more  than  once  heard  him 
say  that  seventeen  years  of  patience  were  not  too  long 
a  term  for  success  in  a  Court;  that  he  spent  all  that 
time  in  gaining  the  end  he  had  in  view;  but  that  at 
length  the  Archbishop  was  where  he  ought  to  be 
for  the  good  of  the  State.  The  Abbe,  from  this 
time,  in  the  Queen's  private  circle  no  longer  con- 
cealed his  credit  and  influence;  nothing  could  equal 
the  confidence  with  which  he  displayed  the  extent 
of  his  pretensions.  He  requested  the  Queen  to  order 
that  the  apartments  appropriated  to  him  should  be 
enlarged,  telling  her  that,  being  obliged  to  give  audi- 
ences to  bishops,  cardinals,  and  ministers,  he  required 
a  residence  suitable  to  his  present  circumstances. 
The  Queen  continued  to  treat  him  as  she  did  before 
the  Archbishop's  arrival  at  Court;  but  the  house- 
hold showed  him  increased  consideration:  the  word 
"  Monsieur  "  preceded  that  of  Abbe;  and  from  that 
moment  not  only  the  livery  servants,  but  also  the 
people  of  the  antechambers  rose  when  Monsieur 
l'Abbe  was  passing,  though  there  never  was,  to  my 
knowledge,  any  order  given  to  that  effect. 

The  Queen  was  obliged,  on  account  of  the  King's 
disposition  and  the  very  limited  confidence  he  placed 
in  the  Archbishop  of  Sens,  to  take  a  part  in  public 
affairs.  While  M.  de  Maurepas  lived  she  kept  out 
of  that  danger,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  censure  which 

205 


206  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  Baron  de  Besenval  passes  on  her  in  his  memoirs 
for  not  availing  herself  of  the  conciliation  he  had 
promoted  between  the  Queen  and  that  minister,  who 
counteracted  the  ascendency  which  the  Queen  and 
her  intimate  friends  might  otherwise  have  gained 
over  the  King's  mind. 

The  Queen  has  often  assured  me  that  she  never 
interfered  respecting  the  interests  of  Austria  but 
once;  and  that  was  only  to  claim  the  execution  of 
the  treaty  of  alliance  at  the  time  when  Joseph  II. 
was  at  war  with  Prussia  and  Turkey;  that  she  then 
demanded  that  an  army  of  twenty-four  thousand  men 
should  be  sent  to  him  instead  of  fifteen  millions,  an 
alternative  which  had  been  left  to  option  in  the 
treaty,  in  case  the  Emperor  should  have  a  just  war 
to  maintain;  that  she  could  not  obtain  her  object, 
and  M.  de  Vergennes,  in  an  interview  which  she  had 
with  him  upon  the  subject,  put  an  end  to  her  im- 
portunities by  observing  that  he  was  answering  the 
mother  of  the  Dauphin  and  not  the  sister  of  the 
Emperor.  The  fifteen  millions  were  sent.  There 
was  no  want  of  money  at  Vienna,  and  the  value  of 
a  French  army  was  fully  appreciated. 

"  But  how,"  said  the  Queen,  "  could  they  be  so 
wicked  as  to  send  off  those  fifteen  millions  from  the 
general  post-office,  diligently  publishing,  even  to  the 
street  porters,  that  they  were  loading  carriages  with 
money  that  I  was  sending  to  my  brother! — whereas 
it  is  certain  that  the  money  would  equally  have  been 
sent  if  I  had  belonged  to  another  house;  and,  be- 
sides, it  was  sent  contrary  to  my  inclination." 

When  the  Comte  de  Moustier  set  out  on  his  mis- 
sion to  the  United  States,  after  having  had  his  public 
audience  of  leave  he  came  and  asked  me  to  procure 
him  a  private  one.  I  could  not  succeed  even  with 
the  strongest  solicitations;   the  Queen  desired  me  to 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  207 

wish  him  a  good  voyage,  but  added  that  none  but 
ministers  could  have  anything  to  say  to  him  in  pri- 
vate, since  he  was  going  to  a  country  where  the  names 
of  King  and  Queen  must  be  detested. 

Marie  Antoinette  had  then  no  direct  influence  over 
State  affairs  until  after  the  deaths  of  M.  de  Maurepas 
and  M.  de  Vergennes,  and  the  retirement  of  M.  de 
Calonne.  She  frequently  regretted  her  new  situa- 
tion, and  looked  upon  it  as  a  misfortune  which  she 
could  not  avoid.  One  day,  while  I  was  assisting  her 
to  tie  up  a  number  of  memorials  and  reports,  which 
some  of  the  ministers  had  handed  to  her  to  be  given 
to  the  King,  "Ah!"  said  she,  sighing,  "there  is  an 
end  of  all  happiness  for  me,  since  they  have  made 
an  intriguer  of  me."  I  exclaimed  at  the  word. 
"Yes,"  resumed  the  Queen,  "that  is  the  right  term; 
every  woman  who  meddles  with  affairs  above  her 
understanding  or  out  of  her  line  of  duty  is  an  in- 
triguer and  nothing  else;  you  will  remember,  how- 
ever, that  it  is  not  my  own  fault,  and  that  it  is  with 
regret  I  give  myself  such  a  title;  Queens  of  France 
are  happy  only  so  long  as  they  meddle  with  nothing, 
and  merely  preserve  influence  sufficient  to  advance 
their  friends  and  reward  a  few  zealous  servants.  Do 
you  know  what  happened  to  me  lately?  One  day 
since  I  began  to  attend  private  committees  at  the 
King's,  while  crossing  the  ceil-de-boeuf,  I  heard  one 
of  the  musicians  of  the  chapel  say  so  loud  that  I  lost 
not  a  single  word,  '  A  Queen  who  does  her  duty  will 
remain  in  her  apartment  to  knit.'  I  said  within  my- 
self, '  Poor  wretch,  thou  art  right;  but  thou  knowest 
not  my  situation;  I  yield  to  necessity  and  my  evil 
destiny.'  " 

This  situation  was  the  more  painful  to  the  Queen 
inasmuch  as  Louis  XVI.  had  long  accustomed  him- 
self to  say  nothing  to  her  respecting  State  affairs; 


2o8  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  when,  towards  the  close  of  his  reign,  she  was 
obliged  to  interfere  in  the  most  important  matters, 
the  same  habit  in  the  King  frequently  kept  from  her 
particulars  which  it  was  necessary  she  should  have 
known.  Obtaining,  therefore,  only  insufficient  in- 
formation, and  guided  by  persons  more  ambitious 
than  skilful,  the  Queen  could  not  be  useful  in  im- 
portant affairs;  yet,  at  the  same  time,  her  ostensible 
interference  drew  upon  her,  from  all  parties  and  all 
classes  of  society,  an  unpopularity  the  rapid  progress 
of  which  alarmed  all  those  who  were  sincerely  attached 
to  her. 

Carried  away  by  the  eloquence  of  the  Archbishop 
of  Sens,  and  encouraged  in  the  confidence  she  placed 
in  that  minister  by  the  incessant  eulogies  of  the  Abbe 
de  Vermond  on  his  abilities,  the  Queen  unfortunately 
followed  up  her  first  mistake  of  bringing  him  into 
office  in  1787  by  supporting  him  at  the  time  of  his 
disgrace,  which  was  obtained  by  the  despair  of  a  whole 
nation.  She  thought  it  was  due  to  her  dignity  to 
give  him  some  marked  proof  of  her  regard  at  the 
moment  of  his  departure;  misled  by  her  feelings,  she 
sent  him  her  portrait  enriched  with  jewelry,  and  a 
brevet  for  the  situation  of  lady  of  the  palace  for  Ma- 
dame de  Canisy,  his  niece,  observing  that  it  was  neces- 
sary to  indemnify  a  minister  sacrificed  to  the  intrigues 
of  the  Court  and  a  factious  spirit  of  the  nation;  that 
otherwise  none  would  be  found  willing  to  devote  them- 
selves to  the  interests  of  the  sovereign. 

On  the  day  of  the  Archbishop's  departure  the  pub- 
lic joy  was  universal,  both  at  Court  and  at  Paris; 
there  were  bonfires;  the  attorneys'  clerks  burnt  the 
Archbishop  in  effigy,  and  on  the  evening  of  his  dis- 
grace more  than  a  hundred  couriers  were  sent  out 
from  Versailles  to  spread  the  happy  tidings  among 
the  country  seats.     I  have  seen  the  Queen  shed  bitter 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  209 

tears  at  the  recollection  of  the  errors  she  committed 
at  this  period,  when  subsequently,  a  short  time  before 
her  death,  the  Archbishop  had  the  audacity  to  say,  in 
a  speech  which  was  printed,  that  the  sole  object  of 
one  part  of  his  operations,  during  his  administration, 
was  the  salutary  crisis  which  the  Revolution  had 
produced. 

The  benevolence  and  generosity  shown  by  the  King 
and  Queen  during  the  severe  winter  of  1788,  when 
the  Seine  was  frozen  over  and  the  cold  was  more  in- 
tense than  it  had  been  for  eighty  years,  procured  them 
some  fleeting  popularity.  The  gratitude  of  the  Pari- 
sians for  the  succour  their  Majesties  poured  forth  was 
lively  if  not  lasting.  The  snow  was  so  abundant  that 
since  that  period  there  has  never  been  seen  such  a 
prodigious  quantity  in  France.  In  different  parts  of 
Paris  pyramids  and  obelisks  of  snow  were  erected 
with  inscriptions  expressive  of  the  gratitude  of  the 
people.  The  pyramid  in  the  Rue  d'Angiviller  was 
supported  on  a  base  six  feet  high  by  twelve  broad;  it 
rose  to  the  height  of  fifteen  feet,  and  was  terminated 
by  a  globe.  Four  blocks  of  stone,  placed  at  the  angles, 
corresponded  with  the  obelisk,  and  gave  it  an  elegant 
appearance.  Several  inscriptions,  in  honour  of  the 
King  and  Queen,  were  affixed  to  it.  I  went  to  see 
this  singular  monument,  and  recollect  the  following 
inscription: 

"TO    MARIE    ANTOINETTE. 

"Lovely  and  good,  to  tender  pity  true, 
Queen  of  a  virtuous  King,  this  trophy  view; 
Cold  ice  and  snow  sustain  its  fragile  form, 
But  ev'ry  grateful  heart  to  thee  is  warm. 
Oh,  may  this  tribute  in  your  hearts  excite, 
Illustrious  pair,  more  pure  and  real  delight, 
Whilst  thus  your  virtues  are  sincerely  prais'd, 
Than  pompous  domes  by  servile  flatt'ry  rais'd." 

The   theatres  generally   rang   with   praises   of   the 


210  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

beneficence  of  the  sovereigns :  "  La  Partie  de  Chasse 
de  Henri  IV."  was  represented  for  the  benefit  of  the 
poor.     The  receipts  were  very  considerable. 

When  the  fruitless  measure  of  the  Assembly  of  the 
Notables,  and  the  rebellious  spirit  in  the  parliaments, 
had  created  the  necessity  for  States  General,  it  was 
long  discussed  in  council  whether  they  should  be  as- 
sembled at  Versailles  or  at  forty  or  sixty  leagues  from 
the  capital;  the  Queen  was  for  the  latter  course,  and 
insisted  to  the  King  that  they  ought  to  be  far  away 
from  the  immense  population  of  Paris.  She  feared 
that  the  people  would  influence  the  deliberations  of 
the  deputies;  several  memorials  were  presented  to  the 
King  upon  that  question;  but  M.  Necker  prevailed, 
and  Versailles  was  the  place  fixed  upon. 

The  day  on  which  the  King  announced  that  he  gave 
his  consent  to  the  convocation  of  the  States  General, 
the  Queen  left  the  public  dinner,  and  placed  herself 
in  the  recess  of  the  first  window  of  her  bedchamber, 
with  her  face  towards  the  garden.  Her  chief  butler 
followed  her,  to  present  her  coffee,  which  she  usually 
took  standing,  as  she  was  about  to  leave  the  table. 
She  beckoned  to  me  to  come  close  to  her.  The  King 
was  engaged  in  conversation  with  some  one  in  his 
room.  When  the  attendant  had  served  her  he  re- 
tired; and  she  addressed  me,  with  the  cup  still  in  her 
hand :  "  Great  Heavens !  what  fatal  news  goes  forth 
this  day!  The  King  assents  to  the  convocation  of 
the  States  General."  Then  she  added,  raising  her 
eyes  to  heaven,  "  I  dread  it;  this  important  event  is  a 
first  fatal  signal  of  discord  in  France."  She  cast  her 
eyes  down,  they  were  filled  with  tears.  She  could  not 
take  the  remainder  of  her  coffee,  but  handed  me  the 
cup,  and  went  to  join  the  King.  In  the  evening,  when 
she  was  alone  with  me,  she  spoke  only  of  this  momen- 
tous decision.    "  It  is  the  Parliament,"  said  she,  "  that 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  211 

has  compelled  the  King  to  have  recourse  to  a  measure 
long  considered  fatal  to  the  repose  of  the  kingdom. 
These  gentlemen  wish  to  restrain  the  power  of  the 
King;  but  they  give  a  great  shock  to  the  authority  of 
which  they  make  so  bad  a  use,  and  they  will  bring 
on  their  own  destruction." 

The  double  representation  granted  to  the  Tiers  Etat 
was  now  the  chief  topic  of  conversation.  The  Queen 
favoured  this  plan,  to  which  the  King  had  agreed; 
she  thought  the  hope  of  obtaining  ecclesiastical  favours 
would  secure  the  clergy  of  the  second  order,  and  that 
M.  Necker  was  sure  to  have  the  same  degree  of  influ- 
ence over  the  lawyers,  and  other  people  of  that  class 
comprised  in  the  Tier's  Etat.  The  Comte  d'Artois, 
holding  the  contrary  opinion,  presented  a  memorial  in 
the  names  of  himself  and  several  princes  of  the  blood 
to  the  King  against  the  double  representation.  The 
Queen  was  displeased  with  him  for  this;  her  confi- 
dential advisers  infused  into  her  apprehensions  that 
the  Prince  was  made  the  tool  of  a  party;  but  his  con- 
duct was  approved  of  by  Madame  de  Polignac's  circle, 
which  the  Queen  thenceforward  only  frequented  to 
avoid  the  appearance  of  a  change  in  her  habits.  She 
almost  always  returned  unhappy;  she  was  treated  with 
the  profound  respect  due  to  a  queen,  but  the  devotion 
of  friendship  had  vanished,  to  make  way  for  the 
coldness  of  etiquette,  which  wounded  her  deeply. 
The  alienation  between  her  and  the  Comte  d'Ar- 
tois was  also  very  painful  to  her,  for  she  had  loved 
him  almost  as  tenderly  as  if  he  had  'been  her  own 
brother. 

The  opening  of  the  States  General  took  place  on 
the  4th  of  May,  1789.  The  Queen  on  that  occasion 
appeared  for  the  last  time  in  her  life  in  regal  mag- 
nificence. During  the  procession  some  low  women, 
seeing  the  Queen  pass,  cried  out  "  Vive  le  Due  d'Or- 


212  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

leans! "  in  so  threatening  a  manner  that  she  nearly 
fainted.  She  was  obliged  to  be  supported,  and  those 
about  her  were  afraid  it  would  be  necessary  to  stop 
the  procession.  The  Queen,  however,  recovered  her- 
self, and  much  regretted  that  she  had  not  been  able 
to  command  more  presence  of  mind. 

The  rapidly  increasing  distrust  of  the  King  and 
Queen  shown  by  the  populace  was  greatly  attributable 
to  incessant  corruption  by  English  gold,  and  the  proj- 
ects, either  of  revenge  or  of  ambition,  of  the  Due 
d'Orleans.  Let  it  not  be  thought  that  this  accusation 
is  founded  on  what  has  been  so  often  repeated  by  the 
heads  of  the  French  Government  since  the  Revolu- 
tion. Twice  between  the  14th  of  July  and  the  6th 
of  October,  1789,  the  day  on  which  the  Court  was 
dragged  to  Paris,  the  Queen  prevented  me  from  mak- 
ing little  excursions  thither  of  business  or  pleasure, 
saying  to  me,  "  Do  not  go  on  such  a  day  to  Paris; 
the  English  have  been  scattering  gold,  we  shall  have 
some  disturbance."  The  repeated  visits  of  the  Due 
d'Orleans  to  England  had  excited  the  Anglomania  to 
such  a  pitch  that  Paris  was  no  longer  distinguish- 
able from  London.  The  French,  formerly  imitated 
by  the  whole  of  Europe,  became  on  a  sudden  a 
nation  of  imitators,  without  considering  the  evils 
that  arts  and  manufactures  must  suffer  in  conse- 
quence of  the  change.  Since  the  treaty  of  com- 
merce made  with  England  at  the  peace  of  1783,  not 
merely  equipages,  but  everything,  even  to  ribands  and 
common  earthenware,  were  of  English  make.  If  this 
predominance  of  English  fashions  had  been  confined 
to  filling  our  drawing-rooms  with  young  men  in  Eng- 
lish frock-coats,  instead  of  the  French  dress,  good 
taste  and  commerce  might  alone  have  suffered;  but 
the  principles  of  English  government  had  taken  pos- 
session of  these  young  heads.     Constitution,   Upper 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  213 

House,  Lozver  House,  national  guarantee,  balance  of 
power,  Magna  Charta,  Law  of  Habeas  Corpus, — all 
these  words  were  incessantly  repeated,  and  seldom  un- 
derstood; but  they  were  of  fundamental  importance 
to  a  party  which  was  then  forming. 

The  first  sitting  of  the  States  took  place  on  the 
following  day.  The  King  delivered  his  speech  with 
firmness  and  dignity;  the  Queen  told  me  that  he  had 
taken  great  pains  about  it,  and  had  repeated  it  fre- 
quently. His  Majesty  gave  public  marks  of  attach- 
ment and  respect  for  the  Queen,  who  was  applauded; 
but  it  was  easy  to  see  that  this  applause  was  in  fact 
rendered  to  the  King  alone. 

It  was  evident,  during  the  first  sittings,  that  Mira- 
beau  would  be  very  dangerous  to  the  Government.  It 
is  affirmed  that  at  this  period  he  communicated  to  the 
King,  and  still  more  fully  to  the  Queen,  part  of  his 
schemes  for  abandoning  them.  He  brandished  the 
weapons  afforded  him  by  his  eloquence  and  audacity, 
in  order  to  make  terms  with  the  party  he  meant  to 
attack.  This  man  played  the  game  of  revolution 
to  make  his  own  fortune.  The  Queen  told  me  that 
he  asked  for  an  embassy,  and,  if  my  memory  does 
not  deceive  me,  it  was  that  of  Constantinople.  He 
was  refused  with  well-deserved  contempt,  though 
policy  would  doubtless  have  concealed  it,  could  the 
future  have  been  foreseen. 

The  enthusiasm  prevailing  at  the  opening  of  this 
assembly,  and  the  debates  between  the  Tiers  Etat, 
the  nobility,  and  even  the  clergy,  daily'  increased  the 
alarm  of  their  Majesties,  and  all  who  were  attached 
to  the  cause  of  monarchy.  The  Queen  went  to  bed 
late,  or  rather  she  began  to  be  unable  to  rest.  One 
evening,  about  the  end  of  May,  she  was  sitting  in 
her  room,  relating  several  remarkable  occurrences  of 
the   day;    four   wax   candles   were   placed   upon   her 


214  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

toilet-table;  the  first  went  out  of  itself;  I  relighted 
it;  shortly  afterwards  the  second,  and  then  the  third 
went  out  also;  upon  which  the  Queen,  squeezing  my 
hand  in  terror,  said  to  me ;  "  Misfortune  makes  us 
superstitious;  if  the  fourth  taper  should  go  out  like 
the  rest,  nothing  can  prevent  my  looking  upon  it  as  a 
sinister  omen."  The  fourth  taper  went  out.  It  was 
remarked  to  the  Queen  that  the  four  tapers  had  prob- 
ably been  run  in  the  same  mould,  and  that  a  defect 
in  the  wick  had  naturally  occurred  at  the  same  point 
in  each,  since  the  candles  had  all  gone  out  in  the 
order  in  which  they  had  been  lighted. 

The  deputies  of  the  Tiers  Etat  arrived  at  Versailles 
full  of  the  strongest  prejudices  against  the  Court. 
They  believed  that  the  King  indulged  in  the  pleasures 
of  the  table  to  a  shameful  excess;  and  that  the  Queen 
was  draining  the  treasury  of  the  State  in  order  to 
satisfy  the  most  unbridled  luxury.  They  almost  all 
determined  to  see  Petit  Trianon.  The  extreme  plain- 
ness of  the  retreat  in  question  not  answering  the  ideas 
they  had  formed,  some  of  them  insisted  upon  seeing 
the  very  smallest  closets,  saying  that  the  richly  fur- 
nished apartments  were  concealed  from  them.  They 
particularised  one  which,  according  to  them,  was  or- 
namented with  diamonds,  and  with  wreathed  columns 
studded  with  sapphires  and  rubies.  The  Queen  could 
not  get  these  foolish  ideas  out  of  her  mind,  and  spoke 
to  the  King  on  the  subject.  From  the  description 
given  of  this  room  by  the  deputies  to  the  keepers  of 
Trianon,  the  King  concluded  that  they  were  looking 
for  the  scene  enriched  with  paste  ornaments,  made 
in  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  for  the  theatre  of 
Fontainebleau. 

The  King  supposed  that  his  Body  Guards,  on 
their  return  to  the  country,  after  their  quarterly  duty 
at  Court,  related  what  they  had  seen,  and  that  their 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  215 

exaggerated  accounts,  being  repeated,  became  at  last 
totally  perverted.  This  idea  of  the  King,  after  the 
search  for  the  diamond  chamber,  suggested  to  the 
Queen  that  the  report  of  the  King's  propensity  for 
drinking  also  sprang  from  the  guards  who  accom- 
panied his  carriage  when  he  hunted  at  Rambouillet. 
The  King,  who  disliked  sleeping  out  of  his  usual  bed, 
was  accustomed  to  leave  that  hunting-seat  after  sup- 
per; he  generally  slept  soundly  in  his  carriage,  and 
awoke  only  on  his  arrival  at  the  courtyard  of  his 
palace;  he  used  to  get  down  from  his  carriage  in 
the  midst  of  his  Body  Guards,  staggering,  as  a  man 
half  awake  will  do,  which  was  mistaken  for  intoxi- 
cation. 

The  majority  of  the  deputies  who  came  imbued 
with  prejudices  produced  by  error  or  malevolence, 
went  to  lodge  with  the  most  humble  private  individ- 
uals of  Versailles,  whose  inconsiderate  conversa- 
tion contributed  not  a  little  to  nourish  such  mis- 
takes. Everything,  in  short,  tended  to  render  the 
deputies  subservient  to  the  schemes  of  the  leaders  of 
the  rebellion. 

Shortly  after  the  opening  of  the  States  General  the 
first  Dauphin  died.  That  young  Prince  suffered  from 
the  rickets,  which  in  a  few  months  curved  his  spine, 
and  rendered  his  legs  so  weak  that  he  could  not  walk 
without  being  supported  like  a  feeble  old  man.  How 
many  maternal  tears  did  his  condition  draw  from  the 
Queen,  already  overwhelmed  with  apprehensions  re- 
specting the  state  of  the  kingdom!  Her  grief  was 
enhanced  by  petty  intrigues,  which,  when  frequently 
renewed,  became  intolerable.  An  open  quarrel  be- 
tween the  families  and  friends  of  the  Due  d'Harcourt, 
the  Dauphin's  governor,  and  those  of  the  Duchesse  de 
Polignac,  his  governess,  added  greatly  to  the  Queen's 
affliction.     The  young  Prince  showed  a  strong  dislike 


2i6  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

to  the  Duchesse  de  Polignac,  who  attributed  it  either 
to  the  Due  or  the  Duchesse  d'Harcourt,  and  came  to 
make  her  complaints  respecting  it  to  the  Queen.  The 
Dauphin  twice  sent  her  out  of  his  room,  saying  to  her, 
with  that  maturity  of  manner  which  long  illness  always 
gives  to  children:  "  Go  out,  Duchess;  you  are  so  fond 
of  using  perfumes,  and  they  always  make  me  ill;" 
and  yet  she  never  used  any.  The  Queen  perceived, 
also,  that  his  prejudices  against  her  friend  extended  to 
herself;  her  son  would  no  longer  speak  in  her  presence. 
She  knew  that  he  had  become  fond  of  sweetmeats,  and 
offered  him  some  marshmallow  and  jujube  lozenges. 
The  under-governors  and  the  first  valet  de  chambre 
requested  her  not  to  give  the  Dauphin  anything,  as  he 
was  to  receive  no  food  of  any  kind  without  the  consent 
of  the  faculty.  I  forbear  to  describe  the  wound  this 
prohibition  inflicted  upon  the  Queen;  she  felt  it  the 
more  deeply  because  she  was  aware  it  was  unjustly 
believed  she  gave  a  decided  preference  to  the  Due  de 
Normandie,  whose  ruddy  health  and  amiability  did,  in 
truth,  form  a  striking  contrast  to  the  languid  look  and 
melancholy  disposition  of  his  elder  brother.  She  even 
suspected  that  a  plot  had  for  some  time  existed  to 
deprive  her  of  the  affection  of  a  child  whom  she  loved 
as  a  good  and  tender  mother  ought.  Previous  to  the 
audience  granted  by  the  King  on  the  ioth  August, 
1788,  to  the  envoy  of  the  Sultan  Tippoo  Saib,  she  had 
begged  the  Due  d'Harcourt  to  divert  the  Dauphin, 
whose  deformity  was  already  apparent,  from  his 
intention  to  be  present  at  that  ceremony,  being  un- 
willing to  expose  him  to  the  gaze  of  the  crowd  of 
inquisitive  Parisians  who  would  be  in  the  gallery. 
Notwithstanding  this  injunction,  the  Dauphin  was 
suffered  to  write  to  his  mother,  requesting  her  per- 
mission to  be  present  at  the  audience.  The  Queen 
was  obliged  to  refuse  him,  and  warmly  reproached  the 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  217 

governor,  who  merely  answered  that  he  could  not 
oppose  the  wishes  of  a  sick  child.  A  year  before  the 
death  of  the  Dauphin  the  Queen  lost  the  Princess 
Sophie;  this  was,  as  the  Queen  said^  the  first  of  a 
series  of  misfortunes. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  ever-memorable  oath  of  the  States  General, 
taken  at  the  Tennis  Court  of  Versailles,  was 
followed  by  the  royal  sitting  of  the  23d  of  June. 
In  this  seance  the  King  declared  that  the  Orders  must 
vote  separately,  and  threatened,  if  further  obstacles 
were  met  with,  to  himself  act  for  the  good  of  the  peo- 
ple. The  Queen  looked  on  M.  Necker's  not  accom- 
panying the  King  as  treachery  or  criminal  cowardice : 
she  said  that  he  had  converted  a  remedy  into  poison; 
that  being  in  full  popularity,  his  audacity,  in  openly 
disavowing  the  step  taken  by  his  sovereign,  had  em- 
boldened the  factious,  and  led  away  the  whole  As- 
sembly; and  that  he  was  the  more  culpable  inasmuch 
as  he  had  the  evening  before  given  her  his  word  to 
accompany  the  King.  In  vain  did  M.  Necker  en- 
deavour to  excuse  himself  by  saying  that  his  advice 
had  not  been  followed. 

Soon  afterwards  the  insurrections  of  the  nth,  T2th, 
and  14th  of  July  opened  the  disastrous  drama  with 
which  France  was  threatened.  The  massacre  of  M. 
de  Flesselles  and  M.  de  Launay  drew  bitter  tears  from 
the  Queen,  and  the  idea  that  the  King  had  lost  such 
devoted  subjects  wounded  her  to  the  heart. 

The  character  of  the  movement  was  no  longer 
merely  that  of  a  popular  insurrection;  cries  of  "  Vive 
la  Nation!  Vive  le  Roi!  Vive  la  Libcrte!  "  threw  the 
strongest  light  upon  the  views  of  the  reformers.  Still 
the  people  spoke  of  the  King  with  affection,  and  ap- 
peared to  think  him  favourable  to  the  national  desire 
for  the  reform  of  what  were  called  abuses;  but  they 

218 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  219 

imagined  that  he  was  restrained  by  the  opinions  and 
influence  of  the  Comte  d'Artois  and  the  Queen;  and 
those  two  august  personages  were  therefore  objects  of 
hatred  to  the  malcontents.  The  dangers  incurred  by 
the  Comte  d'Artois  determined  the  King's  first  step 
with  the  States  General.  He  attended  their  meeting 
on  the  morning  of  the  15th  of  July  with  his  brothers, 
without  pomp  or  escort ;  he  spoke  standing  and  un* 
covered,  and  pronounced  these  memorable  words :  "  I 
trust  myself  to  you;  I  only  wish  to  be  at  one  with 
my  nation,  and,  counting  on  the  affection  and  fidelity 
of  my  subjects,  I  have  given  orders  to  the  troops  to 
remove  from  Paris  and  Versailles."  The  King  re- 
turned on  foot  from  the  chamber  of  the  States  Gen- 
eral to  his  palace;  the  deputies  crowded  after  him, 
and  formed  his  escort,  and  that  of  the  Princes  who 
accompanied  him.  The  rage  of  the  populace  was 
pointed  against  the  Comte  d'Artois,  whose  unfavour- 
able opinion  of  the  double  representation  was  an 
odious  crime  in  their  eyes.  They  repeatedly  cried 
out,  "  The  King  for  ever,  in  spite  of  you  and  your 
opinions,  Monseigneur !  "  One  woman  had  the  impu- 
dence to  come  up  to  the  King  and  ask  him  whether 
what  he  had  been  doing  was  done  sincerely,  and 
whether  he  would  not  be  forced  to  retract  it. 

The  courtyards  of  the  Chateau  were  thronged  with 
an  immense  concourse  of  people;  they  demanded  that 
the  King  and  Queen,  with  their  children,  should  make 
their  appearance  in  the  balcony.  The  Queen  gave 
me  the  key  of  the  inner  doors,  which  led  to  the 
Dauphin's  apartments,  and  desired  me  to  go  to  the 
Duchesse  de  Polignac  to  tell  her  that  she  wanted  her 
son,  and  had  directed  me  to  bring  him  myself  into 
her  room,  where  she  waited  to  show  him  to  the  people. 
The  Duchess  said  this  order  indicated  that  she  was 
not  to  accompany  the  Prince.     I  did  not  answer;  she 


220  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

squeezed  my  hand,  saying,  "  Ah !  Madame  Campan, 
what  a  blow  I  receive!"  She  embraced  the  child  and 
me  with  tears.  She  knew  how  much  I  loved  and 
valued  the  goodness  and  the  noble  simplicity  of  her 
disposition.  I  endeavoured  to  reassure  her  by  saying 
that  I  should  bring  back  the  Prince  to  her;  but  she 
persisted,  and  said  she  understood  the  order,  and 
knew  what  it  meant.  She  then  retired  to  her  private 
room,  holding  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes.  One  of 
the  under-governesses  asked  me  whether  she  might  go 
with  the  Dauphin;  I  told  her  the  Queen  had  given 
no  order  to  the  contrary,  and  we  hastened  to  her 
Majesty,  who  was  waiting  to  lead  the  Prince  to  the 
balcony. 

Having  executed  this  sad  commission,  I  went  down 
into  the  courtyard,  where  I  mingled  with  the  crowd. 
I  heard  a  thousand  vociferations;  it  was  easy  to  see, 
by  the  difference  between  the  language  and  the  dress 
of  some  persons  among  the  mob,  that  they  were  in 
disguise.  A  woman,  whose  face  was  covered  with  a 
black  lace  veil,  seized  me  by  the  arm  with  some  vio- 
lence, and  said,  calling  me  by  my  name,  "  I  know  you 
very  well;  tell  your  Queen  not  to  meddle  with  gov- 
ernment any  longer;  let  her  leave  her  husband  and 
our  good  States  General  to  effect  the  happiness  of  the 
people."  At  the  same  moment  a  man,  dressed  much 
in  the  style  of  a  marketman,  with  his  hat  pulled  down 
over  his  eyes,  seized  me  by  the  other  arm,  and  said, 
'  Yes,  yes ;  tell  her  over  and  over  again  that  it  will 
not  be  with  these  States  as  with  the  others,  which 
produced  no  good  to  the  people;  that  the  nation  is  too 
enlightened  in  1789  not  to  make  something  more  of 
them;  and  that  there  will  not  now  be  seen  a  deputy 
of  the  Tiers  Etat  making  a  speech  with  one  knee  on 
the  ground ;  tell  her  this,  do  you  hear  ?  "  I  was  struck 
with  dread;  the  Queen  then  appeared  in  the  balcony. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  221 

"  Ah !  "  said  the  woman  in  the  veil,  "  the  Duchess  is 
not  with  her."  "  No,"  replied  the  man,  "  but  she  is 
still  at  Versailles;  she  is  working  underground,  mole- 
like; but  we  shall  know  how  to  dig  her  out."  The 
detestable  pair  moved  away  from  me,  and  I  reentered 
the  palace,  scarcely  able  to  support  myself.  I  thought 
it  my  duty  to  relate  the  dialogue  of  these  two  strangers 
to  the  Queen;  she  made  me  repeat  the  particulars  to 
the  King. 

About  four  in  the  afternoon  I  went  across  the  ter- 
race to  Madame  Victoire's  apartments ;  three  men  had 
stopped  under  the  windows  of  the  throne-chamber. 
"  Here  is  that  throne,"  said  one  of  them  aloud,  "  the 
vestiges  of  which  will  soon  be  sought  for."  He  added 
a  thousand  invectives  against  their  Majesties.  I  went 
in  to  the  Princess,  who  was  at  work  alone  in  her  closet 
behind  a  canvas  blind,  which  prevented  her  from  be- 
ing seen  by  those  without.  The  three  men  were  still 
walking  upon  the  terrace;  I  showed  them  to  her,  and 
told  her  what  they  had  said.  She  rose  to  take  a 
nearer  view  of  them,  and  informed  me  that  one  of 
them  was  named  Saint-Huruge ;  that  he  was  sold  to 
the  Due  d'Orleans,  and  was  furious  against  the  Gov- 
ernment, because  he  had  been  confined  once  under  a 
lettre  de  cachet  as  a  bad  character. 

The  King  was  not  ignorant  of  these  popular 
threats;  he  also  knew  the  days  on  which  money  was 
scattered  about  Paris,  and  once  or  twice  the  Queen 
prevented  my  going  there,  saying  there  would  cer- 
tainly be  a  riot  the  next  day,  because  she  knew  that 
a  quantity  of  crown  pieces  had  been  distributed  in 
the  faubourgs. 

On  the  evening  of  the  14th  of  July  the  King  came 
to  the  Queen's  apartments,  where  I  was  with  her 
Majesty  alone;  he  conversed  with  her  respecting  the 
scandalous  report  disseminated  by  the  factious,  that 


222  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

he  had  had  the  Chamber  of  the  National  Assembly 
undermined,  in  order  to  blow  it  up ;  but  he  added  that 
it  became  him  to  treat  such  absurd  assertions  with 
contempt,  as  usual;  I  ventured  to  tell  him  that  I  had 
the  evening  before  supped  with  M.  Begouen,  one  of 
the  deputies,  who  said  that  there  were  very  respectable 
persons  who  thought  that  this  horrible  contrivance 
had  been  proposed  without  the  King's  knowledge. 
"  Then,"  said  his  Majesty,  "  as  the  idea  of  such  an 
atrocity  was  not  revolting  to  so  worthy  a  man  as  M. 
Begouen,  I  will  order  the  chamber  to  be  examined 
early  to-morrow  morning."  In  fact,  it  will  be  seen 
by  the  King's  speech  to  the  National  Assembly,  on 
the  15th  of  July,  that  the  suspicions  excited  obtained 
his  attention.  "  I  know,"  said  he  in  the  speech  in 
question,  "  that  unworthy  insinuations  have  been 
made ;  I  know  there  are  those  who  have  dared  to  as- 
sert that  your  persons  are  not  safe;  can  it  be  neces- 
sary to  give  you  assurances  upon  the  subject  of 
reports  so  culpable,  denied  beforehand  by  my  known 
character?  " 

The  proceedings  of  the  15th  of  July  produced  no 
mitigation  of  the  disturbances.  Successive  deputa- 
tions of  poissardcs  came  to  request  the  King  to  visit 
Paris,  where  his  presence  alone  would  put  an  end  to 
the  insurrection. 

On  the  1 6th  a  committee  was  held  in  the  King's 
apartments,  at  which  a  most  important  question  was 
discussed :  whether  his  Majesty  should  quit  Versailles 
and  set  off  with  the  troops  whom  he  had  recently  or- 
dered to  withdraw,  or  go  to  Paris  to  tranquillise  the 
minds  of  the  people.  The  Queen  was  for  the  de- 
parture. On  the  evening  of  the  16th  she  made  me 
take  all  her  jewels  out  of  their  cases,  to  collect  them 
in  one  small  box,  which  she  might  carry  off  in  her 
own  carriage.     With  my  assistance  she  burnt  a  large 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  223 

quantity  of  papers;  for  Versailles  was  then  threatened 
with  an  early  visit  of  armed  men  from  Paris. 

The  Queen,  on  the  morning  of  the  16th,  before 
attending  another  committee  at  the  King's,  having  got 
her  jewels  ready,  and  looked  over  all  her  papers,  gave 
me  one  folded  up  but  not  sealed,  and  desired 
me  not  to  read  it  until  she  should  give  me  an 
order  to  do  so  from  the  King's  room,  and  then  I 
was  to  execute  its  contents;  but  she  returned  her- 
self about  ten  in  the  morning;  the  affair  was  decided; 
the  army  was  to  go  away  without  the  King;  all  those 
who  were  in  imminent  danger  were  to  go  at  the  same 
time.  "  The  King  will  go  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville 
to-morrow,"  said  the  Queen  to  me;  "he  did  not 
choose  this  course  for  himself;  there  were  long 
debates  on  the  question;  at  last  the  King  put  an  end 
to  them  by  rising  and  saying,  '  Well,  gentlemen, 
we  must  decide;  am  I  to  go  or  to  stay?  I  am 
ready  to  do  either.'  The  majority  were  for  the  King 
staying;  time  will  show  whether  the  right  choice  has 
been  made."  I  returned  the  Queen  the  paper  she 
had  given  me,  which  was  now  useless ;  she  read  it  to 
me ;  it  contained  her  orders  for  the  departure ;  I  was 
to  go  with  her,  as  well  on  account  of  my  office  about 
her  person  as  to  serve  as  a  teacher  to  Madame.  The 
Queen  tore  the  paper,  and  said,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
"  When  I  wrote  this  I  thought  it  would  be  useful, 
but  fate  has  ordered  otherwise,  to  the  misfortune  of 
us  all,  as  I  much  fear." 

After  the  departure  of  the  troops  the  new  adminis- 
tration received  thanks ;  M.  Necker  was  recalled.  The 
artillery  soldiers  were  undoubtedly  corrupted. 
"Wherefore  all  these  guns?"  exclaimed  the  crowds 
of  women  who  filled  the  streets.  "  Will  you  kill  your 
mothers,  your  wives,  your  children?"  "Don't  be 
afraid,"    answered    the    soldiers;    "these    guns    shall 


224  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

rather  be  levelled  against  the  tyrant's  palace  than 
against  you !  " 

The  Comte  d'Artois,  the  Prince  de  Conde,  and 
their  children  set  off  at  the  same  time  with  the  troops. 
The  Due  and  Duchesse  de  Polignac,  their  daughter, 
the  Duchesse  de  Guiche,  the  Comtesse  Diane  de  Po- 
lignac, sister  of  the  Duke,  and  the  Abbe  de  Baliviere, 
also  emigrated  on  the  same  night.  Nothing  could  be 
more  affecting  than  the  parting  of  the  Queen  and  her 
friend;  extreme  misfortune  had  banished  from  their 
minds  the  recollection  of  differences  to  which  political 
opinions  alone  had  given  rise.  The  Queen  several 
times  wished  to  go  and  embrace  her  once  more  after 
their  sorrowful  adieu,  but  she  was  too  closely  watched. 
She  desired  M.  Campan  to  be  present  at  the  departure 
of  the  Duchess,  and  gave  him  a  purse  of  five  hundred 
louis,  desiring  him  to  insist  upon  her  allowing  the 
Queen  to  lend  her  that  sum  to  defray  her  expenses  on 
the  road.  The  Queen  added  that  she  knew  her  situ- 
ation; that  she  had  often  calculated  her  income,  and 
the  expenses  occasioned  by  her  place  at  Court;  that 
both  husband  and  wife,  having  no  other  fortune  than 
their  official  salaries,  could  not  possibly  have  saved  any- 
thing, however  differently  people  might  think  at  Paris. 

M.  Campan  remained  till  midnight  with  the  Duch- 
ess to  see  her  enter  her  carriage.  She  was  disguised 
as  a  femme  de  chambre,  and  got  up  in  front  of  the 
berlin;  she  requested  M.  Campan  to  remember  her 
frequently  to  the  Queen,  and  then  quitted  for  ever 
that  palace,  that  favour,  and  that  influence  which  had 
raised  her  up  such  cruel  enemies.  On  their  arrival 
at  Sens  the  travellers  found  the  people  in  a  state  of 
insurrection;  they  asked  all  those  who  came  from 
Paris  whether  the  Polignacs  were  still  with  the  Queen. 
A  group  of  inquisitive  persons  put  that  question  to 
the  Abbe  de   Baliviere,   who  answered   them   in  the 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  225 

firmest  tone,  and  with  the  most  cavalier  air,  that  they 
were  far  enough  from  Versailles,  and  that  we  had  got 
rid  of  all  such  bad  people.  At  the  following  stage  the 
postilion  got  on  the  doorstep  and  said  to  the  Duchess, 
"  Madame,  there  are  some  good  people  left  in  the 
world :  I  recognised  you  all  at  Sens."  They  gave  the 
worthy  fellow  a  handful  of  gold. 

On  the  breaking  out  of  these  disturbances  an  old 
man  above  seventy  years  of  age  gave  the  Queen  an 
extraordinary  proof  of  attachment  and  fidelity.  M. 
Peraque,  a  rich  inhabitant  of  the  colonies,  father  of 
M.  d'Oudenarde,  was  coming  from  Brussels  to  Paris; 
while  changing  horses  he  was  met  by  a  young  man 
who  was  leaving  France,  and  who  recommended  him 
if  he  carried  any  letters  from  foreign  countries  to  burn 
them  immediately,  especially  if  he  had  any  for  the 
Queen.  M.  Peraque  had  one  from  the  Archduchess, 
the  Gouvernante  of  the  Low  Countries,  for  her 
Majesty.  He  thanked  the  stranger,  and  carefully  con- 
cealed his  packet;  but  as  he  approached  Paris  the 
insurrection  appeared  to  him  so  general  and  so  violent, 
that  he  thought  no  means  could  be  relied  on  for  secur- 
ing this  letter  from  seizure.  He  took  upon  him  to 
unseal  it,  and  learned  it  by  heart,  which  was  a  wonder- 
ful effort  for  a  man  at  his  time  of  life,  as  it  contained 
four  pages  of  writing.  On  his  arrival  at  Paris  he 
wrote  it  down,  and  then  presented  it  to  the  Queen, 
telling  her  that  the  heart  of  an  old  and  faithful  sub- 
ject had  given  him  courage  to  form  and  execute  such 
a  resolution.  The  Queen  received  M.  Peraque  in  her 
closet,  and  expressed  her  gratitude  in  an  affecting 
manner  most  honourable  to  the  worthy  old  man.  Her 
Majesty  thought  the  young  stranger  who  had  ap- 
prised him  of  the  state  of  Paris  was  Prince  George 
of  Hesse-Darmstadt,  who  was  very  devoted  to  her, 
and  who  left  Paris  at  that  time. 


226  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  Marquise  de  Tourzel  replaced  the  Duchesse  de 
Polignac.  She  was  selected  by  the  Queen  as  being 
the  mother  of  a  family  and  a  woman  of  irreproachable 
conduct,  who  had  superintended  the  education  of  her 
own  daughters  with  the  greatest  success. 

The  King  went  to  Paris  on  the  17th  of  July,  accom- 
panied by  the  Marechal  de  Beauvau,  the  Due  de 
Villeroi,  and  the  Due  de  Villequier;  he  also  took  the 
Comte  d'Estaing,  and  the  Marquis  de  Nesle,  who  were 
then  very  popular,  in  his  carriage.  Twelve  Body 
Guards,  and  the  town  guard  of  Versailles,  escorted 
him  to  the  Pont  du  Jour,  near  Sevres,  where  the 
Parisian  guard  was  waiting  for  him.  His  departure 
caused  equal  grief  and  alarm  to  his  friends,  notwith- 
standing the  calmness  he  exhibited.  The  Queen 
restrained  her  tears,  and  shut  herself  up  in  her  private 
rooms  with  her  family.  She  sent  for  several  persons 
belonging-  to  her  Court ;  their  doors  were  locked. 
Terror  had  driven  them  away.  The  silence  of  death 
reigned  throughout  the  palace ;  they  hardly  dared  hope 
that  the  King  would  return.  The  Queen  had  a  robe 
prepared  for  her,  and  sent  orders  to  her  stables  to 
have  all  her  equipages  ready.  She  wrote  an  address 
of  a  few  lines  for  the  Assembly,  determining  to  go 
there  with  her  family,  the  officers  of  her  palace,  and 
her  servants,  if  the  King  should  be  detained  prisoner 
at  Paris.  She  got  this  address  by  heart ;  it  began 
with  these  words :  "  Gentlemen,  I  come  to  place  in 
your  hands  the  wife  and  family  of  your  sovereign; 
do  not  suffer  those  who  have  been  united  in  heaven 
to  be  put  asunder  on  earth."  While  she  was  repeating 
this  address  she  was  often  interrupted  by  tears,  and 
sorrowfully  exclaimed:  "They  will  not  let  him  re- 
turn!" 

It  was  past  four  when  the  King,  who  had  left 
Versailles  at  ten  in  the  morning,  entered  the  Hotel 


MAKIE  "ANTOINETTE  227 

de  Ville.  At  length,  at  six  in  the  evening,  M.  de 
Lastours,  the  King's  first  page,  arrived;  he  was  not 
half  an  hour  in  coming  from  the  Barriere  de  la  Con- 
ference to  Versailles.  Everybody  knows  that  the 
moment  of  calm  in  Paris  was  that  in  which  the  un- 
fortunate sovereign  received  the  tricoloured  cockade 
from  M.  Bailly,  and  placed  it  in  his  hat.  A  shout  of 
"  Vive  la  Roi!"  arose  on  all  sides;  it  had  not  been 
once  uttered  before.  The  King  breathed  again,  and 
with  tears  in  his  eyes  exclaimed  that  his  heart  stood 
in  need  of  such  greetings  from  the  people.  One  of 
his  equerries  (M.  de  Cubieres)  told  him  the  people 
loved  him,  and  that  he  could  never  have  doubted  it. 
The  King  replied  in  accents  of  profound  sensibility: 
"  Cubieres,  the  French  loved  Henri  IV.,  and  what 
king  ever  better  deserved  to  be  beloved  ?  " 

His  return  to  Versailles  filled  his  family  with  inex- 
pressible joy ;  in  the  arms  of  the  Queen,  his  sister, 
and  his  children,  he  congratulated  himself  that  no 
accident  had  happened ;  and  he  repeated  several  times, 
"  Happily  no  blood  has  been  shed,  and  I  swear  that 
never  shall  a  drop  of  French  blood  be  shed  by  my 
order,"— a  determination  full  of  humanity,  but  too 
openly  avowed  in  such  factious  times ! 

The  King's  last  measure  raised  a  hope  in  many  that 
general  tranquillity  would  soon  enable  the  Assembly 
to  resume  its  labours,  and  promptly  bring  its  session 
to  a  close.  The  Queen  never  flattered  herself  so  far; 
M.  Bailly's  speech  to  the  King  had  equally  wounded 
her  pride  and  hurt  her  feelings.  "  Henri  IV.  con- 
quered his  people,  and  here  are  the  people  conquering 
their  King."  The  word  "conquest"  offended  her; 
she  never  forgave  M.  Bailly  for  this  fine  academical 
phrase. 

Five  days  after  the  King's  visit  to  Paris,  the  depar- 
ture of  the  troops,  and  the  removal  of  the  Princes  and 
Vol.  3  Memoirs — 8 


228  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

some  of  the  nobility  whose  influence  seemed  to  alarm 
the  people,  a  horrible  deed  committed  by  hired  assas- 
sins proved  that  the  King  had  descended  the  steps  of 
his  throne  without  having  effected  a  reconciliation 
with  his  people. 

M.  Foulon,  adjoint  to  the  administration  while  M. 
de  Broglie  was  commanding  the  army  assembled  at 
Versailles,  had  concealed  himself  at  Viry.  He  was 
there  recognised,  and  the  peasants  seized  him,  and 
dragged  him  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville.  The  cry  for 
death  was  heard;  the  electors,  the  members  of  com- 
mittee, and  M.  de  La  Fayette,  at  that  time  the  idol  of 
Paris,  in  vain  endeavoured  to  save  the  unfortunate 
man.  After  tormenting  him  in  a  manner  which 
makes  humanity  shudder,  his  body  was  dragged  about 
the  streets,  and  to  the  Palais  Royal,  and  his  heart 
was  carried  by  women  in  the  midst  of  a  bunch  of 
white  carnations!  M.  Berthier,  M.  Foulon's  son-in- 
law,  intendant  of  Paris,  was  seized  at  Compiegne,  at 
the  same  time  that  his  father-in-law  was  seized  at 
Viry,  and  treated  with  still  more  relentless  cruelty. 

The  Queen  was  always  persuaded  that  this  horrible 
deed  was  occasioned  by  some  indiscretion;  and  she 
informed  me  that  M.  Foulon  had  drawn  up  two  me- 
morials for  the  direction  of  the  King's  conduct  at  the 
time  of  his  being  called  to  Court  on  the  removal  of 
M.  Necker;  and  that  these  memorials  contained  two 
schemes  of  totally  different  nature  for  extricating  the 
King  from  the  dreadful  situation  in  which  he  was 
placed.  In  the  first  of  these  projects  M.  Foulon  ex- 
pressed himself  without  reserve  respecting  the  crim- 
inal views  of  the  Due  d'Orleans ;  said  that  he  ought 
to  be  put  under  arrest,  and  that  no  time  should 
be  lost  in  commencing  a  prosecution  against  him, 
while  the  criminal  tribunals  were  still  in  existence; 
he  likewise  pointed  out   such  deputies   as  should  be 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  229 

apprehended,  and  advised  the  King  not  to  separate 
himself  from  his  army  until  order  was  restored. 

His  other  plan  was  that  the  King  should  make 
himself  master  of  the  revolution  before  its  complete 
explosion;  he  advised  his  Majesty  to  go  to  the  As- 
sembly, and  there,  in  person,  to  demand  the  cahiers, 
and  to  make  the  greatest  sacrifices  to  satisfy  the  legit- 
imate wishes  of  the  people,  and  not  to  give  the 
factious  time  to  enlist  them  in  aid  of  their  criminal 
designs.  Madame  Adelaide  had  M.  Foulon's  two 
memorials  read  to  her  in  the  presence  of  four  or  five 
persons.  One  of  them,  Comte  Louis  de  Narbonne, 
was  very  intimate  with  Madame  de  Stael,  and  that 
intimacy  gave  the  Queen  reason  to  believe  that  the 
opposite  party  had  gained  information  of  M.  Foulon's 
schemes. 

It  is  known  that  young  Barnave,  during  an  aberra- 
tion of  mind,  since  expiated  by  sincere  repentance,  and 
even  by  death,  uttered  these  atrocious  words :  "  Is 
then  the  blood  now  Hozving  so  pure?"  when  M.  Ber- 
thier's  son  came  to  the  Assembly  to  implore  the 
eloquence  of  M.  de  Lally  to  entreat  that  body  to  save 
his  father's  life.  I  have  since  been  informed  that  a 
son  of  M.  Foulon,  having  returned  to  France  after 
these  first  ebullitions  of  the  Revolution,  saw  Barnave, 
and  gave  him  one  of  those  memorials  in  which  M. 
Foulon  advised  Louis  XVI.  to  prevent  the  revolu- 
tionary explosion  by  voluntarily  granting  all  that  the 
Assembly  required  before  the  14th  of  July.  "  Read 
this  memorial,"  said  he;  "I  have  brought  it  to  in- 
crease your  remorse :  it  is  the  only  revenge  I  wish  to 
inflict  on  you."  Barnave  burst  into  tears,  and  said 
to  him  all  that  the  profoundest  grief  could  dictate. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

AFTER  the  14th  of  July,  by  a  manoeuvre  for 
which  the  most  skilful  factions  of  any  age 
»  might  have  envied  the  Assembly,  the  whole 
population  of  France  was  armed  and  organised  into 
a  National  Guard.  A  report  was  spread  throughout 
France  on  the  same  day,  and  almost  at  the  same  hour, 
that  four  thousand  brigands  were  marching  towards 
such  towns  or  villages  as  it  was  wished  to  induce  to 
take  arms.  Never  was  any  plan  better  laid ;  terror 
spread  at  the  same  moment  all  over  the  kingdom.  In 
1 79 1  a  peasant  showed  me  a  steep  rock  in  the  moun- 
tains of  the  Mont  d'Or  on  which  his  wife  concealed 
herself  on  the  day  when  the  four  thousand  brigands 
were  to  attack  their  village,  and  told  me  they  had  been 
obliged  to  make  use  of  ropes  to  let  her  down  from  the 
height  which  fear  alone  had  enabled  her  to  climb. 

Versailles  was  certainly  the  place  where  the  na- 
tional military  uniform  appeared  most  offensive.  All 
the  King's  valets,  even  of  the  lowest  class,  were 
metamorphosed  into  lieutenants  or  captains;  almost 
all  the  musicians  of  the  chapel  ventured  one  day  to 
make  their  appearance  at  the  King's  mass  in  a  military 
costume;  and  an  Italian  soprano  adopted  the  uniform 
of  a  grenadier  captain.  The  King  was  very  much 
offended  at  this  conduct,  and  forbade  his  servants  to 
appear  in  his  presence  in  so  unsuitable  a  dress. 

The  departure  of  the  Duchesse  de  Polignac  natu- 
rally left  the  Abbe  de  Vermond  exposed  to  all  the 
dangers  of  favouritism.  He  was  already  talked  of 
as  an  adviser  dangerous  to  the  nation.     The  Queen 

230 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  231 

was  alarmed  at  it,  and  recommended  him  to  remove 
to  Valenciennes,  where  Count  Esterhazy  was  in  com- 
mand. He  was  obliged  to  leave  that  place  in  a  few 
days  and  set  off  for  Vienna,  where  he  remained. 

On  the  night  of  the  17th  of  July  the  Queen,  being 
unable  to  sleep,  made  me  watch  by  her  until  three  in 
the  morning.  I  was  extremely  surprised  to  hear  her 
say  that  it  would  be  a  very  long  time  before  the  Abbe 
de  Vermond  would  make  his  appearance  at  Court 
again,  even  if  the  existing  ferment  should  subside, 
because  he  would  not  readily  be  forgiven  for  his  at- 
tachment to  the  Archbishop  of  Sens;  and  that  she 
had  lost  in  him  a  very  devoted  servant.  Then  she 
suddenly  remarked  to  me,  that  although  he  was  not 
much  prejudiced  against  me  I  could  not  have  much 
regard  for  him,  because  he  could  not  bear  my  father- 
in-law  to  hold  the  place  of  secretary  of  the  closet. 
She  went  on  to  say  that  I  must  have  studied  the 
Abbe's  character,  and,  as  I  had  sometimes  drawn  her 
portraits  of  living  characters,  in  imitation  of  those 
which  were  fashionable  in  the  time  of  Louis  XIV., 
she  desired  me  to  sketch  that  of  the  Abbe,  without 
any  reserve.  My  astonishment  was  extreme ;  the  Queen 
spoke  of  the  man  who,  the  day  before,  had  been  in 
the  greatest  intimacy  with  her  with  the  utmost  cool- 
ness, and  as  a  person  whom,  perhaps,  she  might  never 
see  again !  I  remained  petrified ;  the  Queen  persisted, 
and  told  me  that  he  had  been  the  enemy  of  my  family 
for  more  than  twelve  years,  without  having  been  able 
to  injure  it  in  her  opinion;  so  that  I  had  no  occasion 
to  dread  his  return,  however  severely  I  might  depict 
him.  I  promptly  summarised  my  ideas  about  the 
favourite;  but  I  only  remember  that  the  portrait  was 
drawn  with  sincerity,  except  that  everything  which 
could  denote  antipathy  was  kept  out  of  it.  I  shall 
make  but  one  extract  from  it :  I  said  that  he  had  been 


232  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

born  talkative  and  indiscreet,  and  had  assumed  a 
character  of  singularity  and  abruptness  in  order  to 
conceal  those  two  failings.  The  Queen  interrupted 
me  by  saying,  "  Ah !  how  true  that  is !  "  I  have  since 
discovered  that,  notwithstanding  the  high  favour 
which  the  Abbe  de  Vermond  enjoyed,  the  Queen  took 
precautions  to  guard  herself  against  an  ascendency 
the  consequences  of  which  she  could  not  calculate. 

On  the  death  of  my  father-in-law  his  executors 
placed  in  my  hands  a  box  containing  a  few  jewels 
deposited  by  the  Queen  with  M.  Campan  on  the  de- 
parture from  Versailles  of  the  6th  of  October,  and 
two  sealed  packets,  each  inscribed,  "  Campan  will  take 
care  of  these  papers  for  me."  I  took  the  two  packets 
to  her  Majesty,  who  kept  the  jewels  and  the  larger 
packet,  and,  returning  me  the  smaller,  said,  "  Take 
care  of  that  for  me  as  your  father-in-law  did." 

After  the  fatal  ioth  of  August,  1792,  when  my 
house  was  about  to  be  surrounded,  I  determined  to 
burn  the  most  interesting  papers  of  which  I  was  the 
depository;  I  thought  it  my  duty,  however,  to  open 
this  packet,  which  it  might  perhaps  be  necessary  for 
me  to  preserve  at  all  hazards.  I  saw  that  it  contained 
a  letter  from  the  Abbe  de  Vermond  to  the  Queen.  I 
have  already  related  that  in  the  earlier  days  of  Ma- 
dame de  Polignac's  favour  he  determined  to  remove 
from  Versailles,  and  that  the  Queen  recalled  him  by 
means  of  the  Comte  de  Mercy.  This  letter  contained 
nothing  but  certain  conditions  for  his  return;  it  was 
the  most  whimsical  of  treaties;  I  confess  I  greatly 
regretted  being  under  the  necessity  of  destroying  it. 
He  reproached  the  Queen  for  her  infatuation  for  the 
Comtesse  Jules,  her  family,  and  society ;  and  told  her 
several  truths  about  the  possible  consequences  of  a 
friendship  which  ranked  that  lady  among  the  favour- 
ites of  the  Queens  of  France,  a  title  always  disliked 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  233 

by  the  nation.  He  complained  that  his  advice  was 
neglected,  and  then  came  to  the  conditions  of  his  re- 
turn to  Versailles;  after  strong  assurances  that  he 
would  never,  in  all  his  life,  aim  at  the  higher  church 
dignities,  he  said  that  he  delighted  in  an  unbounded 
confidence;  and  that  he  asked  but  two  things  of  her 
Majesty  as  essential :  the  first  was,  not  to  give  him 
her  orders  through  any  third  person,  and  to  write  to 
him  herself;  he  complained  much  that  he  had  had  no 
letter  in  her  own  hand  since  he  had  left  Vienna;  then 
he  demanded  of  her  an  income  of  eighty  thousand 
livres,  in  ecclesiastical  benefices;  and  concluded  by 
saying  that,  if  she  condescended  to  assure  him  herself 
that  she  would  set  about  procuring  him  what  he 
wished,  her  letter  would  be  sufficient  in  itself  to  show 
him  that  her  Majesty  had  accepted  the  two  conditions 
he  ventured  to  make  respecting  his  return.  No  doubt 
the  letter  was  written;  at  least  it  is  very  certain  that 
the  benefices  were  granted,  and  that  his  absence  from 
Versailles  lasted  only  a  single  week. 

In  the  course  of  July,  1789,  the  regiment  of  French 
guards,  which  had  been  in  a  state  of  insurrection  from 
the  latter  end  of  June,  abandoned  its  colours.  One 
single  company  of  grenadiers  remained  faithful  to  its 
post  at  Versailles.  M.  le  Baron  de  Leval  was  the 
captain  of  this  company.  He  came  every  evening  to 
request  me  to  give  the  Queen  an  account  of  the  dispo- 
sition of  his  soldiers;  but  M.  de  La  Fayette  having 
sent  them  a  note,  they  all  deserted  during  the  night 
and  joined  their  comrades,  who  were  enrolled  in  the 
Paris  guard ;  so  that  Louis  XVI.  on  rising  saw  no 
guard  whatever  at  the  various  posts  entrusted  to  them. 

The  decrees  of  the  4th  of  August,  by  which  all 
privileges  were  abolished,  are  well  known.  The  King 
sanctioned  all  that  tended  to  the  diminution  of  his  own 
personal  gratifications,  but  refused  his  consent  to  the 


234  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

other  decrees  of  that  tumultuous  night;  this  refusal 
was  one  of  the  chief  causes  of  the  ferments  of  the 
month  of  October. 

In  the  early  part  of  September  meetings  were  held 
at  the  Palais  Royal,  and  propositions  made  to  go  to 
Versailles ;  it  was  said  to  be  necessary  to  separate  the 
King  from  his  evil  counsellors,  and  keep  him,  as 
well  as  the  Dauphin,  at  the  Louvre.  The  proclama- 
tions by  the  officers  of  the  commune  for  the  restora- 
tion of  tranquillity  were  ineffectual;  but  M.  de  La 
Fayette  succeeded  this  time  in  dispersing  the  popu- 
lace. The  Assembly  declared  itself  permanent;  and 
during  the  whole  of  September,  in  which  no  doubt  the 
preparations  were  made  for  the  great  insurrections  of 
the  following  month,  the  Court  was  not  disturbed. 

The  King  had  the  Flanders  regiment  removed  to 
Versailles ;  unfortunately  the  idea  of  the  officers  of 
that  regiment  fraternising  with  the  Body  Guards  was 
conceived,  and  the  latter  invited  the  former  to  a  din- 
ner, which  was  given  in  the  great  theatre  of  Ver- 
sailles, and  not  in  the  Salon  of  Hercules,  as  some 
chroniclers  say.  Boxes  were  appropriated  to  various 
persons  who  wished  to  be  present  at  this  entertain- 
ment. The  Queen  told  me  she  had  been  advised  to 
make  her  appearance  on  the  occasion,  but  that  under 
existing  circumstances  she  thought  such  a  step  might 
do  more  harm  than  good ;  and  that,  moreover,  neither 
she  nor  the  King  ought  directly  to  have  anything  to 
do  with  such  a  festival.  She  ordered  me  to  go,  and 
desired  me  to  observe  everything  closely,  in  order  to 
give  a  faithful  account  of  the  whole  affair. 

The  tables  were  set  out  upon  the  stage;  at  them 
were  placed  one  of  the  Body  Guard  and  an  officer  of 
the  Flanders  regiment  alternately.  There  was  a  nu- 
merous orchestra  in  the  room,  and  the  boxes  were 
filled  with  spectators.     The  air,  "  O  Richard,  6  mon 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  235 

Roi!"  was  played,  and  shouts  of  "Five  le  Roi!" 
shook  the  roof  for  several  minutes.  I  had  with  me 
one  of  my  nieces,  and  a  young  person  brought  up  with 
Madame  by  her  Majesty.  They  were  crying  "  Vive  le 
Roi! "  with  all  their  might  when  a  deputy  of  the 
Third  Estate,  who  was  in  the  next  box  to  mine,  and 
whom  I  had  never  seen,  called  to  them,  and  reproached 
them  for  their  exclamations;  it  hurt  him,  he  said,  to 
see  young  and  handsome  Frenchwomen  brought  up  in 
such  servile  habits,  screaming  so  outrageously  for  the 
life  of  one  man,  and  with  true  fanaticism  exalting  him 
in  their  hearts  above  even  their  dearest  relations;  he 
told  them  what  contempt  worthy  American  women 
would  feel  on  seeing  Frenchwomen  thus  corrupted 
from  their  earliest  infancy.  My  niece  replied  with 
tolerable  spirit,  and  I  requested  the  deputy  to  put  an 
end  to  the  subject,  which  could  by  no  means  afford 
him  any  satisfaction,  inasmuch  as  the  young  persons 
who  were  with  me  lived,  as  well  as  myself,  for  the 
sole  purpose  of  serving  and  loving  the  King.  While 
I  was  speaking  what  was  my  astonishment  at  seeing 
the  King,  the  Queen,  and  the  Dauphin  enter  the  cham- 
ber! It  was  M.  de  Luxembourg  who  had  effected 
this  change  in  the  Queen's  determination. 

The  enthusiasm  became  general;  the  moment  their 
Majesties  arrived  the  orchestra  repeated  the  air  I  have 
just  mentioned,  and  afterwards  played  a  song  in  the 
"  Deserter,"  "  Can  we  grieve  those  whom  we  love?  " 
which  also  made  a  powerful  impression  upon  those 
present:  on  all  sides  were  heard  praises  of  their  Maj- 
esties, exclamations  of  affection,  expressions  of  regret 
for  what  they  had  suffered,  clapping  of  hands,  and 
shouts  of  "  Vive  le  Roi!  Vive  la  Reine!  Vive  le  Dau- 
phin!" It  has  been  said  that  white  cockades  were 
worn  on  this  occasion;  that  was  not  the  case;  the 
fact  is,  that  a  few  young  men  belonging  to  the  Na- 


236  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

tional  Guard  of  Versailles,  who  were  invited  to  the 
entertainment,  turned  the  white  lining  of  their  na- 
tional cockades  outwards.  All  the  military  men 
quitted  the  hall,  and  reconducted  the  King  and  his 
family  to  their  apartments.  There  was  intoxication 
in  these  ebullitions  of  joy:  a  thousand  extravagances 
were  committed  by  the  military,  and  many  of  them 
danced  under  the  King's  windows;  a  soldier  belong- 
ing to  the  Flanders  regiment  climbed  up  to  the  bal- 
cony of  the  King's  chamber  in  order  to  shout  "  Vive 
le  Roi!"  nearer  his  Majesty;  this  very  soldier,  as  I 
have  been  told  by  several  officers  of  the  corps,  was 
one  of  the  first  and  most  dangerous  of  their  insurgents 
in  the  riots  of  the  5th  and  6th  of  October.  On  the 
same  evening  another  soldier  of  that  regiment  killed 
himself  with  a  sword.  One  of  my  relations,  chaplain 
to  the  Queen,  who  supped  with  me,  saw  him  stretched 
out  in  a  corner  of  the  Place  d'Armes ;  he  went  to  him 
to  give  him  spiritual  assistance,  and  received  his  con- 
fession and  his  last  sighs.  He  destroyed  himself  out 
of  regret  at  having  suffered  himself  to  be  corrupted  by 
the  enemies  of  his  King,  and  said  that,  since  he  had 
seen  him  and  the  Queen  and  the  Dauphin,  remorse 
had  turned  his  brain. 

I  returned  home,  delighted  with  all  that  I  had  seen. 
I  found  a  great  many  people  there.  M.  de  Beaumetz, 
deputy  for  Arras,  listened  to  my  description  with  a 
chilling  air,  and,  when  I  had  finished,  told  me  that  all 
that  had  passed  was  terrific;  that  he  knew  the  dispo- 
sition of  the  Assembly,  and  that  the  greatest  misfor- 
tunes would  follow  the  drama  of  that  night ;  and  he 
begged  my  leave  to  withdraw  that  he  might  take  time 
for  deliberate  reflection  whether  he  should  on  the  very 
next  day  emigrate,  or  pass  over  to  the  left  side  of  the 
Assembly.  He  adopted  the  latter  course,  and  never 
appeared  again  among  my  associates. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  237 

On  the  26.  of  October  the  military  entertainment 
was  followed  up  by  a  breakfast  given  at  the  hotel  of 
the  Body  Guards.  It  is  said  that  a  discussion  took 
place  whether  they  should  not  march  against  the  As- 
sembly; but  I  am  utterly  ignorant  of  what  passed  at 
that  breakfast.  From  that  moment  Paris  was  con- 
stantly in  commotion;  there  were  continual  mobs,  and 
the  most  virulent  proposals  were  heard  in  all  public 
places;  the  conversation  was  invariably  about  proceed- 
ing to  Versailles.  The  King  and  Queen  did  not  seem 
apprehensive  of  such  a  measure,  and  took  no  pre- 
caution against  it;  even  when  the  army  had  actually 
left  Paris,  on  the  evening  of  the  5th  of  October, 
the  King  was  shooting  at  Meudon,  and  the  Queen  was 
alone  in  her  gardens  at  Trianon,  which  she  then  be- 
held for  the  last  time  in  her  life.  She  was  sitting  in 
her  grotto  absorbed  in  painful  reflection,  when  she 
received  a  note  from  the  Comte  de  Saint-Priest,  en- 
treating her  to  return  to  Versailles.  M.  de  Cubieres 
at  the  same  time  went  off  to  request  the  King  to 
leave  his  sport  and  return  to  the  palace;  the  King  did 
so  on  horseback,  and  very  leisurely.  A  few  minutes 
afterwards  he  was  informed  that  a  numerous  body  of 
women,  which  preceded  the  Parisian  army,  was  at 
Chaville,  at  the  entrance  of  the  avenue  from  Paris. 

The  scarcity  of  bread  and  the  entertainment  of  the 
Body  Guards  were  the  pretexts  for  the  insurrection 
of  the  5th  and  6th  of  October,  1789;  but  it  is  clear 
to  demonstration  that  this  new  movement  of  the  peo- 
ple was  a  part  of  the  original  plan  of  the  factious, 
insomuch  as,  ever  since  the  beginning  of  September,  a 
report  had  been  industriously  circulated  that  the  King 
intended  to  withdraw,  with  his  family  and  ministers, 
to  some  stronghold;  and  at  all  the  popular  assemblies 
there  had  been  always  a  great  deal  said  about  going  to 
Versailles  to  seize  the  King. 


238  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

At  first  only  women  showed  themselves;  the  lat- 
ticed doors  of  the  Chateau  were  closed,  and  the  Body 
Guard  and  Flanders  regiment  were  drawn  up  in  the 
Place  d'Armes.  As  the  details  of  that  dreadful  day 
are  given  with  precision  in  several  works,  I  will  only 
observe  that  general  consternation  and  disorder 
reigned  throughout  the  interior  of  the  palace. 

I  was  not  in  attendance  on  the  Queen  at  this  time. 
M.  Campan  remained  with  her  till  two  in  the  morn- 
ing. As  he  was  leaving  her  she  condescendingly,  and 
with  infinite  kindness,  desired  him  to  make  me  easy 
as  to  the  dangers  of  the  moment,  and  to  repeat  to  me 
M.  de  La  Fayette's  own  words,  which  he  had  just 
used  on  soliciting  the  royal  family  to  retire  to  bed, 
undertaking  to  answer  for  his  army. 

The  Queen  was  far  from  relying  upon  M.  de  La 
Fayette's  loyalty;  but  she  has  often  told  me  that  she 
believed  on  that  day  that  La  Fayette,  having  affirmed 
to  the  King,  in  the  presence  of  a  crowd  of  witnesses, 
that  he  would  answer  for  the  army  of  Paris,  would 
not  risk  his  honour  as  a  commander,  and  was  sure  of 
being  able  to  redeem  his  pledge.  She  also  thought 
the  Parisian  army  was  devoted  to  him,  and  that  all 
he  said  about  his  being  forced  to  march  upon  Ver- 
sailles was  mere  pretence. 

On  the  first  intimation  of  the  march  of  the  Pari- 
sians, the  Comte  de  Saint-Priest  prepared  Rambouillet 
for  the  reception  of  the  King,  his  family,  and  suite, 
and  the  carriages  were  even  drawn  out ;  but  a  few 
cries  of  "  Vive  Ic  Roi! "  when  the  women  reported 
his  Majesty's  favourable  answer,  occasioned  the  inten- 
tion of  going  away  to  be  given  up,  and  orders  were 
given  to  the  troops  to  withdraw.  The  Body  Guards 
were,  however,  assailed  with  stones  and  musketry 
while  they  were  passing  from  the  Place  d'Armes  to 
their   hotel.      Alarm   revived;   again   it   was   thought 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  239 

necessary  that  the  royal  family  should  go  away ;  some 
carriages  still  remained  ready  for  travelling;  they 
were  called  for;  they  were  stopped  by  a  wretched 
player  belonging  to  the  theatre  of  the  town,  seconded 
by  the  mob :  the  opportunity  for  flight  had  been  lost. 

The  insurrection  was  directed  against  the  Queen  in 
particular;  I  shudder  even  now  at  the  recollection  of 
the  poissardes,  or  rather  furies,  who  wore  white 
aprons,  which  they  screamed  out  were  intended  to 
receive  the  bowels  of  Marie  Antoinette,  and  that  they 
would  make  cockades  of  them,  mixing  the  most  ob- 
scene expressions  with  these  horrible  threats. 

The  Queen  went  to  bed  at  two  in  the  morning,  and 
even  slept,  tired  out  with  the  events  of  so  distressing 
a  day.  She  had  ordered  her  two  women  to  bed, 
imagining  there  was  nothing  to  dread,  at  least  for 
that  night;  but  the  unfortunate  Princess  was  indebted 
for  her  life  to  that  feeling  of  attachment  which  pre- 
vented their  obeying  her.  My  sister,  who  was  one  of 
the  ladies  in  question,  informed  me  next  day  of  all 
that  I  am  about  to  relate. 

On  leaving  the  Queen's  bedchamber,  these  ladies 
called  their  femmes  de  chambre,  and  all  four  re- 
mained sitting  together  against  her  Majesty's  bed- 
room door.  About  half -past  four  in  the  morning  they 
heard  horrible  yells  and  discharges  of  firearms;  one 
ran  to  the  Queen  to  awaken  her  and  get  her  out  of 
bed;  my  sister  flew  to  the  place  from  which  the  tumult 
seemed  to  proceed ;  she  opened  the  door  of  the  ante- 
chamber which  leads  to  the  great  guard-room,  and 
beheld  one  of  the  Body  Guard  holding  his  musket 
across  the  door,  and  attacked  by  a  mob,  who  were 
striking  at  him;  his  face  was  covered  with  blood;  he 
turned  round  and  exclaimed :  "  Save  the  Queen,  ma- 
dame;  they  are  come  to  assassinate  her!  "  She  hastily 
shut  the  door  upon  the  unfortunate  victim  of  duty, 


240  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

fastened  it  with  the  great  bolt,  and  took  the  same 
precaution  on  leaving  the  next  room.  On  reaching 
the  Queen's  chamber  she  cried  out  to  her,  "  Get  up, 
Madame!  Don't  stay  to  dress  yourself;  fly  to  the 
King's  apartment ! "  The  terrified  Queen  threw  her- 
self out  of  bed;  they  put  a  petticoat  upon  her  without 
tying  it,  and  the  two  ladies  conducted  her  towards  the 
ceil-de-bccuf.  A  door,  which  led  from  the  Queen's 
dressing-room  to  that  apartment,  had  never  before 
been  fastened  but  on  her  side.  What  a  dreadful  mo- 
ment !  It  was  found  to  be  secured  on  the  other  side. 
They  knocked  repeatedly  with  all  their  strength;  a 
servant  of  one  of  the  King's  valets  de  chambre  came 
and  opened  it;  the  Queen  entered  the  King's  chamber, 
but  he  was  not  there.  Alarmed  for  the  Queen's  life, 
he  had  gone  down  the  staircases  and  through  the 
corridors  under  the  ccil-de-bceuf ,  by  means  of  which 
he  was  accustomed  to  go  to  the  Queen's  apartments 
without  being  under  the  necessity  of  crossing  that 
room.  He  entered  her  Majesty's  room  and  found  no 
one  there  but  some  Body  Guards,  who  had  taken 
refuge  in  it.  The  King,  unwilling  to  expose  their 
lives,  told  them  to  wait  a  few  minutes,  and  afterwards 
sent  to  desire  them  to  go  to  the  ml-de-bceuj.  Madame 
de  Tourzel,  at  that  time  governess  of  the  children  of 
France,  had  just  taken  Madame  and  the  Dauphin  to 
the  King's  apartments.  The  Queen  saw  her  children 
again.  The  reader  must  imagine  this  scene  of  tender- 
ness and  despair. 

It  is  not  true  that  the  assassins  penetrated  to  the 
Queen's  chamber  and  pierced  the  bed  with  their 
swords.  The  fugitive  Body  Guards  were  the  only  per- 
sons who  entered  it;  and  if  the  crowd  had  reached 
so  far  they  would  all  have  been  massacred.  Besides, 
when  the  rebels  had  forced  the  doors  of  the  ante- 
chamber, the  footmen  and  officers  on  duty,  knowing 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  241 

that  the  Queen  was  no  longer  in  her  apartments,  told 
them  so  with  that  air  of  truth  which  always  carries 
conviction.  The  ferocious  horde  instantly  rushed 
towards  the  ceil-de-bceuf ,  hoping,  no  doubt,  to  intercept 
her  on  her  way. 

Many  have  asserted  that  they  recognised  the  Due 
d'Orleans  in  a  greatcoat  and  slouched  hat,  at  half-past 
four  in  the  morning,  at  the  top  of  the  marble  staircase, 
pointing  out  with  his  hand  the  guard-room,  which  led 
to  the  Queen's  apartments.  This  fact  was  deposed  to 
at  the  Chatelet  by  several  individuals  in  the  course  of 
the  inquiry  instituted  respecting  the  transactions  of  the 
5th  and  6th  of  October. 

The  prudence  and  honourable  feeling  of  several 
officers  of  the  Parisian  guards,  and  the  judicious  con- 
duct of  M.  de  Vaudreuil,  lieutenant-general  of  marine, 
and  of  M.  de  Chevanne,  one  of  the  King's  Guards, 
brought  about  an  understanding  between  the  grena- 
diers of  the  National  Guard  of  Paris  and  the  King's 
Guard.  The  doors  of  the  ceil-de-bocuf  were  closed, 
and  the  antechamber  which  precedes  that  room  was 
filled  with  grenadiers  who  wanted  to  get  in  to 
massacre  the  Guards.  M.  de  Chevanne  offered  him- 
self to  them  as  a  victim  if  they  wished  for  one,  and 
demanded  what  they  would  have.  A  report  had  been 
spread  through  their  ranks  that  the  Body  Guards  set 
them  at  defiance,  and  that  they  all  wore  black  cock- 
ades. M.  de  Chevanne  showed  them  that  he  wore, 
as  did  the  corps,  the  cockade  of  their  uniform;  and 
promised  that  the  Guards  should  exchange  it  for  that  , 
of  the  nation.  This  was  done;  they  even  went  so  far 
as  to  exchange  their  grenadiers'  caps  for  the  hats  of 
the  Body  Guards;  those  who  were  on  guard  took  off 
their  shoulder-belts;  embraces  and  transports  of 
fraternisation  instantly  succeeded  to  the  savage  eager- 
ness to  murder  the  band  which  had  shown  so  much 


242  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

fidelity  to  its  sovereign.  The  cry  was  now  "  Vivent 
le  Roi,  la  Nation,  et  les  Gardes-dn-corps! " 

The  army  occupied  the  Place  d'Armes,  all  the  court- 
yards of  the  Chateau,  and  the  entrance  to  the  avenue. 
They  called  for  the  Queen  to  appear  in  the  balcony: 
she  came  forward  with  Madame  and  the  Dauphin. 
There  was  a  cry  of  "  No  children!  "  Was  this  with 
a  view  to  deprive  her  of  the  interest  she  inspired, 
accompanied  as  she  was  by  her  young  family,  or  did 
the  leaders  of  the  democrats  hope  that  some  madman 
would  venture  to  aim  a  mortal  blow  at  her  person? 
The  unfortunate  Princess  certainly  was  impressed 
with  the  latter  idea,  for  she  sent  away  her  children, 
and  with  her  hands  and  eyes  raised  towards  heaven, 
advanced  upon  the  balcony  like  a  self-devoted  victim. 

A  few  voices  shouted  "  To  Paris !  "  The  exclama- 
tion soon  became  general.  Before  the  King  agreed 
to  this  removal  he  wished  to  consult  the  National  As- 
sembly, and  caused  that  body  to  be  invited  to  sit  at 
the  Chateau.  Mirabeau  opposed  this  measure.  While 
these  discussions  were  going  forward  it  became  more 
and  more  difficult  to  restrain  the  immense  disorderly 
multitude.  The  King,  without  consulting  any  one, 
now  said  to  the  people :  "  You  wish,  my  children,  that 
I  should  follow  you  to  Paris :  I  consent,  but  on  con- 
dition that  I  shall  not  be  separated  from  my  wife  and 
family."  The  King  added  that  he  required  safety 
also  for  his  Guards;  he  was  answered  by  shouts  of 
"  Vive  le  Roi!  Vivent  les  Gardes-du-corps! "  The 
Guards,  with  their  hats  in  the  air,  turned  so  as  to 
exhibit  the  cockade,  shouted  "  Vive  le  Roil  Vive  la 
Nation!"  Shortly  afterwards  a  general  discharge  of 
all  the  muskets  took  place,  in  token  of  joy.  The  King 
and  Queen  set  off  from  Versailles  at  one  o'clock. 
The  Dauphin,  Madame  the  King's  daughter,  Mon- 
sieur, Madame,  Madame  Elisabeth,  and  Madame  de 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  243 

Tourzel,  were  in  the  carriage;  the  Princesse  de 
Chimay  and  the  ladies  of  the  bedchamber  for  the 
week,  the  King's  suite  and  servants,  followed  in  Court 
carriages;  a  hundred  deputies  in  carriages,  and  the 
bulk  of  the  Parisian  army,  closed  the  procession. 

The  poissardes  went  before  and  around  the  carriage 
of  their  Majesties,  crying,  "  We  shall  no  longer  want 
bread!  We  have  the  baker,  the  baker's  wife,  and  the 
baker's  boy  with  us !  "  In  the  midst  of  this  troop  of 
cannibals  the  heads  of  two  murdered  Body  Guards 
were  carried  on  poles.  The  monsters,  who  made 
trophies  of  them,  conceived  the  horrid  idea  of  forcing 
a  wigmaker  of  Sevres  to  dress  them  up  and  powder 
their  bloody  locks.  The  unfortunate  man  who  was 
forced  to  perform  this  dreadful  work  died  in  con- 
sequence of  the  shock  it  gave  him. 

The  progress  of  the  procession  was  so  slow  that  it 
was  near  six  in  the  evening  when  this  august  family, 
made  prisoners  by  their  own  people,  arrived  at  the 
Hotel  de  Ville.  Bailly  received  them  there ;  they  were 
placed  upon  a  throne,  just  when  that  of  their  ances- 
tors had  been  overthrown.  The  King  spoke  in  a  firm 
yet  gracious  manner;  he  said  that  he  always  came 
with  pleasure  and  confidence  among  the  inhabitants 
of  his  good  city  of  Paris.  M.  Bailly  repeated  this 
observation  to  the  representatives  of  the  commune, 
who  came  to  address  the  King;  but  he  forgot  the 
word  confidence.  The  Queen  instantly  and  loudly  re- 
minded him  of  the  omission.  The  King  and  Queen, 
their  children,  and  Madame  Elisabeth,  retired  to  the 
Tuileries.  Nothing  was  ready  for  their  reception 
there.  All  the  living-rooms  had  been  long  given  up 
to  persons  belonging  to  the  Court;  they  hastily 
quitted  them  on  that  day,  leaving  their  furniture, 
which  was  purchased  by  the  Court.  The  Comtesse 
de  la  Marck,  sister  to  the  Marechaux  de  Noailles  and 


244  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

de  Mouchy,  had  occupied  the  apartments  now  appro- 
priated to  the  Queen.  Monsieur  and  Madame  retired 
to  the  Luxembourg. 

The  Queen  had  sent  for  me  on  the  morning  of  the 
6th  of  October,  to  leave  me  and  my  father-in-law  in 
charge  of  her  most  valuable  property.  She  took  away 
only  her  casket  of  diamonds.  Comte  Gouvernet  de 
la  Tour-du-Pin,  to  whom  the  military  government  of 
Versailles  was  entrusted  pro  tempore,  came  and  gave 
orders  to  the  National  Guard,  which  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  the  apartments,  to  allow  us  to  remove  every- 
thing that  we  should  deem  necessary  for  the  Queen's 
accommodation. 

I  saw  her  Majesty  alone  in  her  private  apartments 
a  moment  before  her  departure  for  Paris;  she  could 
hardly  speak;  tears  bedewed  her  face,  to  which  all 
the  blood  in  her  body  seemed  to  have  rushed;  she 
condescended  to  embrace  me,  gave  her  hand  to  M. 
Campan  to  kiss,  and  said  to  us,  "  Come  immediately 
and  settle  at  Paris;  I  will  lodge  you  at  the  Tuileries; 
come,  and  do  not  leave  me  henceforward;  faithful 
servants  at  moments  like  these  become  useful  friends; 
we  are  lost,  dragged  away,  perhaps  to  death;  when 
kings  become  prisoners  they  are  very  near  it." 

I  had  frequent  opportunities  during  the  course  of 
our  misfortunes  of  observing  that  the  people  never 
entirely  give  their  allegiance  to  factious  leaders,  but 
easily  escape  their  control  when  some  cause  reminds 
them  of  their  duty.  As  soon  as  the  most  violent  Jac- 
obins had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  Queen  near  at 
hand,  of  speaking  to  her,  and  of  hearing  her  voice, 
they  became  her  most  zealous  partisans;  and  even 
when  she  was  in  the  prison  of  the  Temple  several  of 
those  who  had  contributed  to  place  her  there  perished 
for  having  attempted  to  get  her  out  again. 

On  the  morning  of  the  7th  of  October  the  same 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  245 

women  who  the  day  before  surrounded  the  carriage 
of  the  august  prisoners,  riding  on  cannons  and  utter- 
ing the  most  abusive  language,  assembled  under  the 
Queen's  windows,  upon  the  terrace  of  the  Chateau, 
and  desired  to  see  her.  Her  Majesty  appeared.  There 
are  always  among  mobs  of  this  description  orators, 
that  is  to  say,  beings  who  have  more  assurance  than 
the  rest;  a  woman  of  this  description  told  the  Queen 
that  she  must  now  remove  far  from  her  all  such 
courtiers  as  ruin  kings,  and  that  she  must  love  the 
inhabitants  of  her  good  city.  The  Queen  answered 
that  she  had  loved  them  at  Versailles,  and  would  like- 
wise love  them  at  Paris.  "Yes,  yes,"  said  another; 
"  but  on  the  14th  of  July  you  wanted  to  besiege  the 
city  and  have  it  bombarded;  and  on  the  6th  of 
October  you  wanted  to  fly  to  the  frontiers."  The 
Queen  replied,  affably,  that  they  had  been  told  so, 
and  had  believed  it;  that  there  lay  the  cause  of  the 
unhappiness  of  the  people  and  of  the  best  of  kings. 
A  third  addressed  a  few  words  to  her  in  German :  the 
Queen  told  her  she  did  not  understand  it;  that  she 
had  become  so  entirely  French  as  even  to  have  for- 
gotten her  mother  tongue.  This  declaration  was 
answered  with  "Bravo!"  and  clapping  of  hands; 
they  then  desired  her  to  make  a  compact  with  them. 
"  Ah,"  said  she,  "  how  can  I  make  a  compact  with 
you,  since  you  have  no  faith  in  that  which  my  duty 
points  out  to  me,  and  which  I  ought  for  my  own 
happiness  to  respect?"  They  asked  her  for  the  rib- 
bons and  flowers  out  of  her  hat;  her  Majesty  herself 
unfastened  them  and  gave  them;  they  were  divided 
among  the  party,  which  for  above  half  an  hour  cried 
out,  without  ceasing,  "  Marie  Antoinette  for  ever ! 
Our  good  Queen  for  ever !  " 

Two  days  after  the  King's  arrival  at  Paris,  the  city 
and  the  National  Guard  sent  to  request  the  Queen  to 


246  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

appear  at  the  theatre,  and  prove  by  her  presence  and 
the  King's  that  it  was  with  pleasure  they  resided  in 
their  capital.  I  introduced  the  deputation  which 
came  to  make  this  request.  Her  Majesty  replied  that 
she  would  have  infinite  pleasure  in  acceding  to  the 
invitation  of  the  city  of  Paris;  but  that  time  must 
be  allowed  her  to  soften  the  recollection  of  the  dis- 
tressing events  which  had  just  occurred,  and  from 
which  she  had  suffered  too  much.  She  added,  that 
having  come  into  Paris  preceded  by  the  heads  of  the 
faithful  Guards  who  had  perished  before  the  door  of 
their  sovereign,  she  could  not  think  that  such  an  entry 
into  the  capital  ought  to  be  followed  by  rejoicings;  but 
that  the  happiness  she  had  always  felt  in  appearing 
in  the  midst  of  the  inhabitants  of  Paris  was  not 
effaced  from  her  memory,  and  that  she  should  enjoy 
it  again  as  soon  as  she  found  herself  able  to  do  so. 

Their  Majesties  found  some  consolation  in  their 
private  life :  from  Madame's  gentle  manners  and  filial 
affection,  from  the  accomplishments  and  vivacity  of 
the  little  Dauphin,  and  the  attention  and  tenderness 
of  the  pious  Princess  Elisabeth,  they  still  derived 
moments  of  happiness.  The  young  Prince  daily  gave 
proofs  of  sensibility  and  penetration;  he  was  not  yet 
beyond  female  care,  but  a  private  tutor,  the  Abbe 
Davout,  gave  him  all  the  instruction  suitable  to  his 
age;  his  memory  was  highly  cultivated,  and  he  re- 
cited verses  with  much  grace  and  feeling. 

The  day  after  the  arrival  of  the  Court  at  Paris, 
terrified  at  hearing  some  noise  in  the  gardens  of  the 
Tuileries,  he  threw  himself  into  the  arms  of  the 
Queen,  crying  out,  "  Grand  Dieu,  mamma !  will  it  be 
yesterday  over  again?"  A  few  days  after  this  af- 
fecting exclamation,  he  went  up  to  the  King,  and 
looked  at  him  with  a  pensive  air.  The  King  asked 
him  what  he  wanted;  he  answered,  that  he  had  some- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  247 

thing  very  serious  to  say  to  him.  The  King  having 
prevailed  on  him  to  explain  himself,  the  young  Prince 
asked  why  his  people,  who  formerly  loved  him  so 
well,  were  all  at  once  angry  with  him;  and  what  he 
had  done  to  irritate  them  so  much.  His  father  took 
him  upon  his  knees,  and  spoke  to  him  nearly  as  fol- 
lows :  "  I  wished,  child,  to  render  the  people  still 
happier  than  they  were ;  I  wanted  money  to  pay  the 
expenses  occasioned  by  wars.  I  asked  my  people  for 
money,  as  my  predecessors  have  always  done ;  magis- 
trates, composing  the  Parliament,  opposed  it,  and 
said  that  my  people  alone  had  a  right  to  consent  to 
it.  I  assembled  the  principal  inhabitants  of  every 
town,  whether  distinguished  by  birth,  fortune,  or 
talents,  at  Versailles;  that  is  what  is  called  the  States 
General.  When  they  were  assembled  they  required 
concessions  of  me  which  I  could  not  make,  either  with 
due  respect  for  myself  or  with  justice  to  you,  who 
will  be  my  successor ;  wicked  men  inducing  the  people 
to  rise  have  occasioned  the  excesses  of  the  last  few 
days;  the  people  must  not  be  blamed  for  them." 

The  Queen  made  the  young  Prince  clearly  com- 
prehend that  he  ought  to  treat  the  commanders  of 
battalions,  the  officers  of  the  National  Guard,  and  all 
the  Parisians  who  were  about  him,  with  affability ; 
the  child  took  great  pains  to  please  all  those  people, 
and  when  he  had  had  an  opportunity  of  replying 
obligingly  to  the  mayor  or  members  of  the  commune 
he  came  and  whispered  in  his  mother's  ear,  "  Was 
that  right?" 

He  requested  M.  Bailly  to  show  him  the  shield  of 
Scipio,  which  is  in  the  royal  library;  and  M.  Bailly 
asking  him  which  he  preferred,  Scipio  or  Hannibal, 
the  young  Prince  replied,  without  hesitation,  that  he 
preferred  him  who  had  defended  his  own  country. 
He  gave   frequent  proofs  of   ready   wit.     One  day, 


248  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

while  the  Queen  was  hearing  Madame  repeat  her 
exercises  in  ancient  history,  the  young  Princess  could 
not  at  the  moment  recollect  the  name  of  the  Queen 
of  Carthage;  the  Dauphin  was  vexed  at  his  sister's 
want  of  memory,  and  though  he  never  spoke  to  her 
in  the  second  person  singular,  he  bethought  himself 
of  the  expedient  of  saying  to  her,  "  But  dis  done  the 
name  of  the  Queen,  to  mamma;  dis  done  what  her 
name  was." 

Shortly  after  the  arrival  of  the  King  and  his  family 
at  Paris  the  Duchesse  de  Luynes  came,  in  pursuance 
of  the  advice  of  a  committee  of  the  Constitutional 
Assembly,  to  propose  to  the  Queen  a  temporary  re- 
tirement from  France,  in  order  to  leave  the  constitu- 
tion to  perfect  itself,  so  that  the  patriots  should  not 
accuse  her  of  influencing  the  King  to  oppose  it.  The 
Duchess  knew  how  far  the  schemes  of  the  conspirers 
extended,  and  her  attachment  to  the  Queen  was  the 
principal  cause  of  the  advice  she  gave  her.  The  Queen 
perfectly  comprehended  the  Duchesse  de  Luynes's  mo- 
tive; but  replied  that  she  would  never  leave  either  the 
King  or  her  son;  that  if  she  thought  herself  alone 
obnoxious  to  public  hatred  she  would  instantly  offer 
her  life  as  a  sacrifice;  but  that  it  was  the  throne  which 
was  aimed  at,  and  that,  in  abandoning  the  King,  she 
should  be  merely  committing  an  act  of  cowardice, 
since  she  saw  no  other  advantage  in  it  than  that  of 
saving  her  own  life. 

One  evening,  in  the  month  of  November,  1790,  I 
returned  home  rather  late;  I  there  found  the  Prince 
de  Poix;  he  told  me  he  came  to  request  me  to  assist 
him  in  regaining  his  peace  of  mind;  that  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  sittings  of  the  National  Assembly 
he  had  suffered  himself  to  be  seduced  into  the  hope 
of  a  better  order  of  things;  that  he  blushed  for  his 
error,  and  that  he  abhorred  plans  which  had  already 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  249 

produced  such  fatal  results;  that  he  broke  with  the 
reformers  for  the  rest  of  his  life;  that  he  had  given 
in  his  resignation  as  a  deputy  of  the  National  As- 
sembly; and,  finally,  that  he  was  anxious  that  the 
Queen  should  not  sleep  in  ignorance  of  his  senti- 
ments. I  undertook  his  commission,  and  acquitted 
myself  of  it  in  the  best  way  I  could;  but  I  was  to- 
tally unsuccessful.  The  Prince  de  Poix  remained  at 
Court;  he  there  suffered  many  mortifications,  never 
ceasing  to  serve  the  King  in  the  most  dangerous  com- 
missions with  that  zeal  for  which  his  house  has  al- 
ways been  distinguished. 

When  the  King,  the  Queen,  and  the  children  were 
suitably  established  at  the  Tuileries,  as  well  as  Ma- 
dame Elisabeth  and  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe,  the 
Queen  resumed  her  usual  habits;  she  employed  her 
mornings  in  superintending  the  education  of  Madame, 
who  received  all  her  lessons  in  her  presence,  and  she 
herself  began  to  work  large  pieces  of  tapestry.  Her 
mind  was  too  much  occupied  with  passing  events  and 
surrounding  dangers  to  admit  of  her  applying  herself 
to  reading;  the  needle  was  the  only  employment  which 
could  divert  her.  She  received  the  Court  twice  a 
week  before  going  to  mass,  and  on  those  days  dined 
in  public  with  the  King;  she  spent  the  rest  of  the 
time  with  her  family  and  children;  she  had  no  con- 
cert, and  did  not  go  to  the  play  until  1791,  after  the 
acceptation  of  the  constitution.  The  Princesse  de 
Lamballe,  however,  had  some  evening  parties  in  her 
apartments  at  the  Tuileries,  which  were  tolerably 
brilliant  in  consequence  of  the  great  number  of  per- 
sons who  attended  them.  The  Queen  was  present 
at  a  few  of  these  assemblies;  but  being  soon  convinced 
that  her  present  situation  forbade  her  appearing  much 
in  public,  she  remained  at  home,  and  conversed  as  she 
sat  at  work.     The  sole  topic  of  her  discourse  was,  as 


250  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

may  well  be  supposed,  the  Revolution.  She  sought  to 
discover  the  real  opinions  of  the  Parisians  respecting 
her,  and  how  she  could  have  so  completely  lost  the  af- 
fections of  the  people,  and  even  of  many  persons  in  the 
higher  ranks.  She  well  knew  that  she  ought  to  im- 
pute the  whole  to  the  spirit  of  party,  to  the  hatred  of 
the  Due  d'Orleans,  and  the  folly  of  the  French,  who 
desired  to  have  a  total  change  in  the  constitution; 
but  she  was  not  the  less  desirous  of  ascertaining  the 
private  feelings  of  all  the  people  in  power. 

From  the  very  commencement  of  the  Revolution 
General  Luckner  indulged  in  violent  sallies  against  her. 
Her  Majesty,  knowing  that  I  was  acquainted  with 
a  lady  who  had  been  long  connected  with  the  General, 
desired  me  to  discover  through  that  channel  what 
was  the  private  motive  on  which  Luckner's  hatred 
against  her  was  founded.  On  being  questioned  upon 
this  point,  he  answered  that  Marechal  de  Segur  had 
assured  him  he  had  proposed  him  for  the  command 
of  a  camp  of  observation,  but  that  the  Queen  had  made 
a  bar  against  his  name ;  and  that  this  par,  as  he  called 
it,  in  his  German  accent,  he  could  not  forget. 

The  Queen  ordered  me  to  repeat  this  reply  to  the 
King  myself,  and  said  to  him:  "  See,  Sire,  whether  I 
was  not  right  in  telling  you  that  your  ministers,  in 
order  to  give  themselves  full  scope  in  the  distribution 
of  favours,  persuaded  the  French  that  I  interfered  in 
everything;  there  was  not  a  single  license  given  out 
in  the  country  for  the  sale  of  salt  or  tobacco  but  the 
people  believed  it  was  given  to  one  of  my  favourites." 

"That  is  very  true,"  replied  the  King;  "but  I  find 
it  very  difficult  to  believe  that  Marechal  de  Segur  ever 
said  any  such  thing  to  Luckner;  he  knew  too  well  that 
you  never  interfered  in  the  distribution  of  favours. 
That  Luckner  is  a  good-for-nothing  fellow,  and  Segur 
is  a  brave  and   honourable  man  who  never  uttered 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  251 

such  a  falsehood ;  however,  you  are  right ;  and  because 
you  provided  for  a  few  dependents,  you  are  most  un- 
justly reported  to  have  disposed  of  all  offices,  civil  and 
military." 

All  the  nobility  who  had  not  left  Paris  made  a 
point  of  presenting  themselves  assiduously  to  the  King, 
and  there  was  a  considerable  influx  to  the  Tuileries. 
Marks  of  attachment  were  exhibited  even  in  external 
symbols;  the  women  wore  enormous  bouquets  of  lilies 
in  their  bosoms  and  upon  their  heads,  and  sometimes 
even  bunches  of  white  ribbon.  At  the  play  there  were 
often  disputes  between  the  pit  and  the  boxes  about  re- 
moving these  ornaments,  which  the  people  thought 
dangerous  emblems.  National  cockades  were  sold  in 
every  corner  of  Paris;  the  sentinels  stopped  all  who 
did  not  wear  them;  the  young  men  piqued  themselves 
upon  breaking  through  this  regulation,  which  was  in 
some  degree  sanctioned  by  the  acquiescence  of  Louis 
XVI.  Frays  took  place,  which  were  to  be  regretted, 
because  they  excited  a  spirit  of  lawlessness.  The 
King  adopted  conciliatory  measures  with  the  Assembly 
in  order  to  promote  tranquillity;  the  revolutionists 
were  but  little  disposed  to  think  him  sincere;  unfor- 
tunately the  royalists  encouraged  this  incredulity  by 
incessantly  repeating  that  the  King  was  not  free,  and 
that  all  that  he  did  was  completely  null,  and  in  no 
way  bound  him  for  the  time  to  come.  Such  was  the 
heat  and  violence  of  party  spirit  that  persons  the  most 
sincerely  attached  to  the  King  were  not  even  per- 
mitted to  use  the  language  of  reason,  and  recommend 
greater  reserve  in  conversation.  People  would  talk 
and  argue  at  table  without  considering  that  all  the 
servants  belonged  to  the  hostile  army;  and  it  may 
truly  be  said  there  was  as  much  imprudence  and  levity 
in  the  party  assailed  as  there  was  cunning,  boldness„ 
and  perseverance  in  that  which  made  the  attack. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

IN  February,  1790,  another  matter  gave  the  Court 
much  uneasiness ;  a  zealous  individual  of  the  name 
of  Favras  had  conceived  the  scheme  of  carrying1 
off  the  King,  and  effecting  a  counter-revolution.  Mon- 
sieur, probably  out  of  mere  benevolence,  gave  him  some 
money,  and  thence  arose  a  report  that  he  thereby 
wished  to  favour  the  execution  of  the  enterprise.  The 
step  taken  by  Monsieur  in  going  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville 
to  explain  himself  on  this  matter  was  unknown  to 
the  Queen;  it  is  more  than  probable  that  the  King 
was  acquainted  with  it.  When  judgment  was  pro- 
nounced upon  M.  de  Favras  the  Queen  did  not  con- 
ceal from  me  her  fears  about  the  confessions  of  the 
unfortunate  man  in  his  last  moments. 

I  sent  a  confidential  person  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville; 
she  came  to  inform  the  Queen  that  the  condemned 
had  demanded  to  be  taken  from  Notre-Dame  to  the 
Hotel  de  Ville  to  make  a  final  declaration,  and  give 
some  particulars  verifying  it.  These  particulars  com- 
promised nobody;  Favras  corrected  his  last  will  after 
writing  it,  and  went  to  the  scaffold  with  heroic  cour- 
age and  coolness.  The  judge  who  read  his  condemna- 
tion to  him  told  him  that  his  life  was  a  sacrifice  which 
he  owed  to  public  tranquillity.  It  was  asserted  at  the 
time  that  Favras  was  given  up  as  a  victim  in  order  to 
satisfy  the  people  and  save  the  Baron  de  Besenval,  who 
was  a  prisoner  in  the  Abbaye. 

On  the  morning  of  the  Sunday  following  this  execu- 
tion M.  de  la  Villeurnoy  came  to  my  house  to  tell 
me  that  he  was  going  that  day  to  the  public  dinner  of 

252 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  253 

the  King-  and  Queen  to  present  Madame  de  Favras 
and  her  son,  both  of  them  in  mourning  for  the  brave 
Frenchman  who  fell  a  sacrifice  for  his  King;  and 
that  all  the  royalists  expected  to  see  the  Queen  load 
the  unfortunate  family  with  favours.  I  did  all  that 
lay  in  my  power  to  prevent  this  proceeding.  I  fore- 
saw the  effect  it  would  have  upon  the  Queen's  feeling 
heart,  and  the  painful  constraint  she  would  experi- 
ence, having  the  horrible  Santerre,  the  commandant 
of  a  battalion  of  the  Parisian  guard,  behind  her  chair 
during  dinner-time.  I  could  not  make  M.  de  la  Vil- 
leurnoy  comprehend  my  argument;  the  Queen  was 
gone  to  mass,  surrounded  by  her  whole  Court,  and 
I  had  not  even  means  of  apprising  her  of  his  in- 
tention. 

When  dinner  was  over  I  heard  a  knocking  at  the 
door  of  my  apartment,  which  opened  into  the  corridor 
next  that  of  the  Queen;  it  was  herself.  She  asked 
me  whether  there  was  anybody  with  me;  I  was  alone; 
she  threw  herself  into  an  armchair,  and  told  me  she 
came  to  weep  with  me  over  the  foolish  conduct  of  the 
ultras  of  the  King's  party.  "  We  must  fall,"  said  she, 
"  attacked  as  we  are  by  men  who  possess  every  talent 
and  shrink  from  no  crime,  while  we  are  defended  only 
by  those  who  are  no  doubt  very  estimable,  but  have 
no  adequate  idea  of  our  situation.  They  have  exposed 
me  to  the  animosity  of  both  parties  by  presenting  the 
widow  and  son  of  Favras  to  me.  Were  I  free  to  act 
as  I  wish,  I  should  take  the  child  of  the  man  who  has 
just  sacrificed  himself  for  us  and  place  him  at  table 
between  the  King  and  myself;  but  surrounded  by  the 
assassins  who  have  destroyed  his  father,  I  did  not  dare 
even  to  cast  my  eyes  upon  him.  The  royalists  will 
blame  me  for  not  having  appeared  interested  in  this 
poor  child;  the  revolutionists  will  be  enraged  at  the 
idea  that  his  presentation  should  have  been  thought 


254  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

agreeable  to  me."  However,  the  Queen  added  that 
she  knew  Madame  de  Favras  was  in  want,  and  that 
she  desired  me  to  send  her  next  day,  through  a  person 
who  could  be  relied  on,  a  few  rouleaus  of  fifty  louis, 
and  to  direct  that  she  should  be  assured  her  Majesty 
would  always  watch  over  the  fortunes  of  herself  and 
her  son. 

In  the  month  of  March  following  I  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  ascertaining  the  King's  sentiments  respect- 
ing the  schemes  which  were  continually  proposed  to 
him  for  making  his  escape.  One  night  about  ten 
o'clock  Comte  d'Inisdal,  who  was  deputed  by  the 
nobility,  came  to  request  that  I  would  see  him  in 
private,  as  he  had  an  important  matter  to  communi- 
cate to  me.  He  told  me  that  on  that  very  night  the 
King  was  to  be  carried  off;  that  the  section  of  the 
National  Guard,  that  day  commanded  by  M.  d'Au- 
mont,  was  gained  over,  and  that  sets  of  horses,  fur- 
nished by  some  good  royalists,  were  placed  in  re- 
lays at  suitable  distances;  that  he  had  just  left  a 
number  of  the  nobility  assembled  for  the  execution  of 
this  scheme,  and  that  he  had  been  sent  to  me  that  I 
might,  through  the  medium  of  the  Queen,  obtain  the 
King's  positive  consent  to  it  before  midnight ;  that 
the  King  was  aware  of  their  plan,  but  that  his  Maj- 
esty never  would  speak  decidedly,  and  that  it  was 
necessary  he  should  consent  to  the  undertaking.  I 
greatly  displeased  Comte  d'Inisdal  by  expressing  my 
astonishment  that  the  nobility  at  the  moment  of  the 
execution  of  so  important  a  project  should  send  to 
me,  the  Queen's  first  woman,  to  obtain  a  consent 
which  ought  to  have  been  the  basis  of  any  well-con- 
certed scheme.  I  told  him,  also,  that  it  would  be 
impossible  *or  me  to  go  at  that  time  to  the  Queen's 
apartments  without  exciting  the  attention  of  the  peo- 
ple in  the  antechambers;  that  the  King  was  at  cards 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  255 

with  tHe  Queen  and  his  family,  and  that  I  never 
broke  in  upon  their  privacy  unless  I  was  called  for.  I 
added,  however,  that  M.  Campan  could  enter  without 
being  called;  and  if  the  Count  chose  to  give  him  his 
confidence  he  might  rely  upon  him. 

My  father-in-law,  to  whom  Comte  dTnisdal  re- 
peated what  he  had  said  to  me,  took  the  commission 
upon  himself,  and  went  to  the  Queen's  apartments. 
The  King  was  playing  at  whist  with  the  Queen,  Mon- 
sieur, and  Madame;  Madame  Elisabeth  was  kneeling 
on  a  stool  near  the  table.  M.  Campan  informed  the 
Queen  of  what  had  been  communicated  to  me;  no- 
body uttered  a  word.  The  Queen  broke  silence  and 
said  to  the  King,  "  Do  you  hear,  Sire,  what  Campan 
says  to  us?"  "Yes,  I  hear,"  said  the  King,  and 
continued  his  game.  Monsieur,  who  was  in  the  habit 
of  introducing  passages  from  plays  into  his  conversa- 
tion, said  to  my  father-in-law,  "  M.  Campan,  that 
pretty  little  couplet  again,  if  you  please;  "  and  pressed 
the  King  to  reply.  At  length  the  Queen  said,  "  But 
something  must  be  said  to  Campan."  The  King  then 
spoke  to  my  father-in-law  in  these  words:  'Tell  M. 
dTnisdal  that  I  cannot  consent  to  be  carried  off!" 
The  Queen  enjoined  M.  Campan  to  take  care  and  re- 
port this  answer  faithfully.  "  You  understand," 
added  she,  "the  King  cannot  consent  to  be  carried 
off." 

Comte  d'Inisdal  was  very  much  dissatisfied  with  the 
King's  answer,  and  went  out,  saying,  "  I  understand; 
he  wishes  to  throw  all  the  blame,  beforehand,  upon 
those  who  are  to  devote  themselves  for  him."  He 
went  away,  and  I  thought  the  enterprise  would  be 
abandoned.  However,  the  Queen  remained  alone  with 
me  till  midnight,  preparing  her  cases  of  valuables, 
and  ordered  me  not  to  go  to  bed.  She  imagined  the 
King's  answer  would  be  understood  as  a  tacit  con- 


256  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

sent,  and  merely  a  refusal  to  participate  in  the  design, 
I  do  not  know  what  passed  in  the  King's  apartments 
during  the  night;  but  I  occasionally  looked  out  at  the 
windows :  I  saw  the  garden  clear ;  I  heard  no  noise  in 
the  palace,  and  day  at  length  confirmed  my  opinion 
that  the  project  had  been  given  up.  "  We  must,  how- 
ever, fly,"  said  the  Queen  to  me,  shortly  afterwards; 
"  who  knows  how  far  the  factious  may  go  ?  The 
danger  increases  every  day."  This  Princess  received 
advice  and  memorials  from  all  quarters.  Rivarol  ad- 
dressed several  to  her,  which  I  read  to  her.  They 
were  full  of  ingenious  observations ;  but  the  Queen 
did  not  find  that  they  contained  anything  of  essential 
service  under  the  circumstances  in  which  the  royal 
family  was  placed.  Comte  du  Moustier  also  sent 
memorials  and  plans  of  conduct.  I  remember  that  in 
one  of  his  writings  he  said  to  the  King,  "  Read  '  Tele- 
machus '  again,  Sire ;  in  that  book  which  delighted 
your  Majesty  in  infancy  you  will  find  the  first  seeds 
of  those  principles  which,  erroneously  followed  up  by 
men  of  ardent  imaginations,  are  bringing  on  the  ex- 
plosion we  expect  every  moment."  I  read  so  many  of 
these  memorials  that  I  could  hardly  give  a  faithful  ac- 
count of  them,  and  I  am  determined  to  note  in  this 
work  no  other  events  than  such  as  I  witnessed;  no 
other  words  than  such  as  (notwithstanding  the  lapse 
of  time)  still  in  some  measure  vibrate  in  my  ears. 

Comte  de  Segur,  on  his  return  from  Russia,  was 
employed  some  time  by  the  Queen,  and  had  a  certain 
degree  of  influence  over  her;  but  that  did  not  last 
long.  Comte  Augustus  de  la  Marck  likewise  endeav- 
oured to  negotiate  for  the  King's  advantage  with  the 
leaders  of  the  factious.  M.  de  Fontanges,  Archbishop 
of  Toulouse,  possessed  also  the  Queen's  confidence; 
but  none  of  the  endeavours  which  were  made  on  the 
spot   produced   any   beneficial   result.     The    Empress 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  257 

Catherine  II.  also  conveyed  her  opinion  upon  the  situ- 
ation of  Louis  XVI.  to  the  Queen,  and  her  Majesty 
made  me  read  a  few  lines  in  the  Empress's  own  hand- 
writing, which  concluded  with  these  words :  "  Kings 
ought  to  proceed  in  their  career  undisturbed  by  the 
cries  of  the  people,  even  as  the  moon  pursues  her 
course  unimpeded  by  the  baying  of  dogs."  This 
maxim  of  the  despotic  sovereign  of  Russia  was  very 
inapplicable  to  the  situation  of  a  captive  king. 

Meanwhile  the  revolutionary  party  followed  up  its 
audacious  enterprise  in  a  determined  manner,  without 
meeting  any  opposition.  The  advice  from  without, 
as  well  from  Coblentz  as  from  Vienna,  made  various 
impressions  upon  the  members  of  the  royal  family, 
and  those  cabinets  were  not  in  accordance  with  each 
other.  I  often  had  reason  to  infer  from  what  the 
Queen  said  to  me  that  she  thought  the  King,  by 
leaving  all  the  honour  of  restoring  order  to  the  Co- 
blentz party,  would,  on  the  return  of  the  emigrants, 
be  put  under  a  kind  of  guardianship  which  would  in- 
crease his  own  misfortunes.  She  frequently  said  to 
me,  "  If  the  emigrants  succeed,  they  will  rule  the 
roast  for  a  long  time;  it  will  be  impossible  to  refuse 
them  anything;  to  owe  the  crown  to  them  would  be 
contracting  too  great  an  obligation."  It  always  ap- 
peared to  me  that  she  wished  her  own  family  to 
counterbalance  the  claims  of  the  emigrants  by  disin- 
terested services.  She  was  fearful  of  M.  de  Calonne, 
and  with  good  reason.  She  had  proof  that  this  min- 
ister was  her  bitterest  enemy,  and  that  he  made  use 
of  the  most  criminal  means  in  order  to  blacken  her 
reputation.  I  can  testify  that  I  have  seen  in  the  hands 
of  the  Queen  a  manuscript  copy  of  the  infamous 
memoirs  of  the  woman  De  Lamotte,  which  had  been 
brought  to  her  from  London,  and  in  which  all  those 
passages  where  a  total  ignorance  of  the  customs  of 


258  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

Courts  had  occasioned  that  wretched  woman  to  make 
blunders  which  would  have  been  too  palpable  were  cor- 
rected in  M.  de  Calonne's  own  handwriting. 

The  two  King's  Guards  who  were  wounded  at  her 
Majesty's  door  on  the  6th  of  October  were  M.  du  Re- 
paire  and  M.  de  Miomandre  de  Sainte-Marie;  on  the 
dreadful  night  of  the  6th  of  October  the  latter  took 
the  post  of  the  former  the  moment  he  became  in- 
capable of  maintaining  it. 

A  considerable  number  of  the  Body  Guards,  who 
were  wounded  on  the  6th  of  October,  betook  them- 
selves to  the  infirmary  at  Versailles.  The  brigands 
wanted  to  make  their  way  into  the  infirmary  in  order 
to  massacre  them.  M.  Viosin,  head  surgeon  of  that 
infirmary,  ran  to  the  entrance  hall,  invited  the  as- 
sailants to  refresh  themselves,  ordered  wine  to  be 
brought,  and  found  means  to  direct  the  Sister  Supe- 
rior to  remove  the  Guards  into  a  ward  appropriated 
to  the  poor,  and  dress  them  in  the  caps  and  greatcoats 
furnished  by  the  institution.  The  good  sisters  ex- 
ecuted this  order  so  promptly  that  the  Guards  were 
removed,  dressed  as  paupers,  and  their  beds  made, 
while  the  assassins  were  drinking.  They  searched  all 
the  wards,  and  fancied  they  saw  no  persons  there 
but  the  sick  poor;  thus  the  Guards  were  saved. 

M.  de  Miomandre  was  at  Paris,  living  on  terms  of 
friendship  with  another  of  the  Guards,  who,  on  the 
same  day,  received  a  gunshot  wound  from  the  brigands 
in  another  part  of  the  Chateau.  These  two  officers, 
who  were  attended  and  cured  together  at  the  infirmary 
of  Versailles,  were  almost  constant  companions;  they 
were  recognised  at  the  Palais  Royal,  and  insulted. 
The  Queen  thought  it  necessary  for  them  to  quit  Paris. 
She  desired  me  to  write  to  M.  de  Miomandre  de 
Sainte-Marie,  and  tell  him  to  come  to  me  at  eight 
o'clock  in  the  evening;  and  then  to  communicate  to 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  259 

him  her  wish  to  hear  of  his  being  in  safety;  and 
ordered  me,  when  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  go,  to 
tell  him  in  her  name  that  gold  could  not  repay  such  a 
service  as  he  had  rendered ;  that  she  hoped  some  day 
to  be  in  sufficiently  happy  circumstances  to  recom- 
pense him  as  she  ought;  but  that  for  the  present  her 
offer  of  money  was  only  that  of  a  sister  to  a  brother 
situated  as  he  then  was,  and  that  she  requested  he 
would  take  whatever  might  be  necessary  to  discharge 
his  debts  at  Paris  and  defray  the  expenses  of  his  jour- 
ney. She  told  me  also  to  desire  he  would  bring  his 
friend  Bertrand  with  him,  and  to  make  him  the  same 
offer. 

The  two  Guards  came  at  the  appointed  hour,  and 
accepted,  I  think,  each  one  or  two  hundred  louis.  A 
moment  afterwards  the  Queen  opened  my  door;  she 
was  accompanied  by  the  King  and  Madame  Elisabeth ; 
the  King  stood  with  his  back  against  the  fireplace; 
the  Queen  sat  down  upon  a  sofa  and  Madame  Elisa- 
beth sat  near  her;  I  placed  myself  behind  the  Queen, 
and  the  two  Guards  stood  facing  the  King.  The 
Queen  told  them  that  the  King  wished  to  see  before 
they  went  away  two  of  the  brave  men  who  had  af- 
forded him  the  strongest  proofs  of  courage  and  at- 
tachment. Miomandre  said  all  that  the  Queen's  af- 
fecting observations  were  calculated  to  inspire.  Ma- 
dame Elisabeth  spoke  of  the  King's  gratitude;  the 
Queen  resumed  the  subject  of  their  speedy  departure, 
urging  the  necessity  of  it;  the  King  was  silent;  but 
his  emotion  was  evident,  and  his  eyes  were  suffused 
with  tears.  The  Queen  rose,  the  King  went  out,  and 
Madame  Elisabeth  followed  him;  the  Queen  stopped 
and  said  to  me,  in  the  recess  of  a  window,  "  I  am 
sorry  I  brought  the  King  here !  I  am  sure  Elisabeth 
thinks  with  me;  if  the  King  had  but  given  utterance 
to  a  fourth  part  of  what  he  thinks  of  those  brave  men 
Vol.  3  Memoirs — 9 


260  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

they  would  have  been  in  ecstasies;  but  he  cannot 
overcome  his  diffidence." 

The  Emperor  Joseph  died  about  this  time.  The 
Queen's  grief  was  not  excessive;  that  brother  of  whom 
she  had  been  so  proud,  and  whom  she  had  loved  so 
tenderly,  had  probably  suffered  greatly  in  her  opinion ; 
she  reproached  him  sometimes,  though  with  modera- 
tion, for  having  adopted  several  of  the  principles  of 
the  new  philosophy,  and  perhaps  she  knew  that  he 
looked  upon  our  troubles  with  the  eye  of  the  sovereign 
of  Germany  rather  than  that  of  the  brother  of  the 
Queen  of  France. 

The  Emperor  on  one  occasion  sent  the  Queen  an 
engraving  which  represented  unfrocked  nuns  and 
monks.  The  first  were  trying  on  fashionable  dresses, 
the  latter  were  having  their  hair  arranged ;  the  picture 
was  always  left  in  the  closet,  and  never  hung  up.  The 
Queen  told  me  to  have  it  taken  away;  for  she  was 
hurt  to  see  how  much  influence  the  philosophers  had 
over  her  brother's  mind  and  actions. 

Mirabeau  had  not  lost  the  hope  of  becoming  the 
last  resource  of  the  oppressed  Court ;  and  at  this  time 
some  communications  passed  between  the  Queen  and 
him.  The  question  was  about  an  office  to  be  conferred 
upon  him.  This  transpired,  and  it  must  have  been 
about  this  period  that  the  Assembly  decreed  that  no 
deputy  could  hold  an  office  as  a  minister  of  the  King 
until  the  expiration  of  two  years  after  the  cessation  of 
his  legislative  functions.  I  know  that  the  Queen  was 
much  hurt  at  this  decision,  and  considered  that  the 
Court  had  lost  a  promising  opening. 

The  palace  of  the  Tuileries  was  a  very  disagreeable 
residence  during  the  summer,  which  made  the  Queen 
wish  to  go  to  St.  Cloud.  The  removal  was  decided 
on  without  any  opposition;  the  National  Guard  of 
Paris  followed  the  Court  thither.     At  this  period  new 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  261 

opportunities  of  escape  were  presented ;  nothing  would 
have  been  more  easy  than  to  execute  them.  The 
King  had  obtained  leave  (!)  to  go  out  without  guards, 
and  to  be  accompanied  only  by  an  aide-de-camp  of 
M.  de  La  Fayette.  The  Queen  also  had  one  on  duty 
with  her,  and  so  had  the  Dauphin.  The  King  and 
Queen  often  went  out  at  four  in  the  afternoon,  and 
did  not  return  until  eight  or  nine. 

I  will  relate  one  of  the  plans  of  emigration  which 
the  Queen  communicated  to  me,  the  success  of  which 
seemed  infallible.  The  royal  family  were  to  meet  in 
a  wood  four  leagues  from  St.  Cloud ;  some  persons 
who  could  be  fully  relied  on  were  to  accompany  the 
King,  who  was  always  followed  by  his  equerries  and 
pages;  the  Queen  was  to  join  him  with  her  daughter 
and  Madame  Elisabeth.  These  Princesses,  as  well  as 
the  Queen,  had  equerries  and  pages,  of  whose  fidelity 
no  doubt  could  be  entertained.  The  Dauphin  like- 
wise was  to  be  at  the  place  of  rendezvous  with  Madame 
de  Tourzel;  a  large  berlin  and  a  chaise  for  the  at- 
tendants were  sufficient  for  the  whole  family;  the 
aides-de-camp  were  to  have  been  gained  over  or  mas- 
tered. The  King  was  to  leave  a  letter  for  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  National  Assembly  on  his  bureau  at  St. 
Cloud.  The  people  in  the  service  of  the  King  and 
Queen  would  have  waited  until  nine  in  the  evening 
without  anxiety,  because  the  family  sometimes  did 
not  return  until  that  hour.  The  letter  could  not  be 
forwarded  to  Paris  until  ten  o'clock. at  the  earliest. 
The  Assembly  would  not  then  be  sitting;  the  Presi- 
dent must  have  been  sought  for  at  his  own  house  or 
elsewhere;  it  would  have  been  midnight  before  the 
Assembly  could  have  been  summoned  and  couriers 
sent  off  to  have  the  royal  family  stopped ;  but  the 
latter  would  have  been  six  or  seven  hours  in  advance, 
as  they  would  have  started  at  six  leagues'  distance 


262  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

from  Paris;  and  at  this  period  travelling  was  not  yet 
impeded  in  France. 

The  Queen  approved  of  this  plan ;  but  I  did  not 
venture  to  interrogate  her,  and  I  even  thought  if  it 
were  put  in  execution  she  would  leave  me  in  ignorance 
of  it.  One  evening  in  the  month  of  June  the  people 
of  the  Chateau,  finding  the  King  did  not  return  by 
nine  o'clock,  were  walking  about  the  courtyards  in  a 
state  of  great  anxiety.  I  thought  the  family  was 
gone,  and  I  could  scarcely  breathe  amidst  the  con- 
fusion of  my  good  wishes,  when  I  heard  the  sound 
of  the  carriages.  I  confessed  to  the  Queen  that  I 
thought  she  had  set  off;  she  told  me  she  must  wait 
until  Mesdames  the  King's  aunts  had  quitted  France, 
and  afterwards  see  whether  the  plan  agreed  with  those 
formed  abroad. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THERE  was  a  meeting  at  Paris  for  the  first  fed- 
eration on  the  14th  of  July,  1790,  the  anni- 
versary of  the  taking  of  the  Bastille.  What  an 
astonishing  assemblage  of  four  hundred  thousand 
men,  of  whom  there  were  not  perhaps  two  hundred 
who  did  not  believe  that  the  King  found  happiness 
and  glory  in  the  order  of  things  then  being  established. 
The  love  which  was  borne  him  by  all,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  those  who  meditated  his  ruin,  still  reigned  in 
the  hearts  of  the  French  in  the  departments;  but  if  I 
may  judge  from  those  whom  I  had  an  opportunity  of 
seeing,  it  was  totally  impossible  to  enlighten  them; 
they  were  as  much  attached  to  the  King  as  to  the  con- 
stitution, and  to  the  constitution  as  to  the  King ;  and  it 
was  impossible  to  separate  the  one  from  the  other  in 
their  hearts  and  minds. 

The  Court  returned  to  St.  Cloud  after  the  federa- 
tion. A  wretch,  named  Rotondo,  made  his  way  into 
the  palace  with  the  intention  of  assassinating  the 
Queen.  It  is  known  that  he  penetrated  to  the  inner 
gardens:  the  rain  prevented  her  Majesty  from  going 
out  that  day.  M.  de  La  Fayette,  who  was  aware  of 
this  plot,  gave  all  the  sentinels  the  strictest  orders, 
and  a  description  of  the  monster  was  distributed 
throughout  the  palace  by  order  of  the  General.  I  do 
not  know  how  he  was  saved  from  punishment.  The 
police  belonging  to  the  King  discovered  that  there  was 
likewise  a  scheme  on  foot  for  poisoning  the  Queen. 
She  spoke  to  me,  as  well  as  to  her  head  physician,  M. 
Vicq-d'Azyr,  about  it,  without  the  slightest  emotion, 

263 


264  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

but  both  he  and  I  consulted  what  precautions  it  would 
be  proper  to  take.  He  relied  much  upon  the  Queen's 
temperance ;  yet  he  recommended  me  always  to  have 
a  bottle  of  oil  of  sweet  almonds  within  reach,  and  to 
renew  it  occasionally,  that  oil  and  milk  being,  as  is 
known,  the  most  certain  antidotes  to  the  divellication 
of  corrosive  poisons. 

The  Queen  had  a  habit  which  rendered  M.  Vicq- 
d'Azyr  particularly  uneasy :  there  was  always  some 
pounded  sugar  upon  the  table  in  her  Majesty's  bed- 
chamber ;  and  she  frequently,  without  calling  anybody, 
put  spoonfuls  of  it  into  a  glass  of  water  when  she 
wished  to  drink.  It  was  agreed  that  I  should  get  a 
considerable  quantity  of  sugar  powdered  ;  that  I  should 
always  have  some  papers  of  it  in  my  bag,  and  that 
three  or  four  times  a  day,  when  alone  in  the  Queen's 
room,  I  should  substitute  it  for  that  in  her  sugar- 
basin.  We  knew  that  the  Queen  would  have  pre- 
vented all  such  precautions,  but  we  were  not  aware 
of  her  reason.  One  day  she  caught  me  alone  making 
this  exchange,  and  told  me  she  supposed  it  was  agreed 
on  between  myself  and  M.  Vicq-d'Azyr,  but  that  I 
gave  myself  very  unnecessary  trouble.  "  Remember," 
added  she,  "  that  not  a  grain  of  poison  will  be  put  in 
use  against  me.  The  Brinvilliers  do  not  belong  to 
this  century :  this  age  possesses  calumny,  which  is  a 
much  more  convenient  instrument  of  death;  and  it  is 
by  that  I  shall  perish." 

Even  while  melancholy  presentiments  afflicted  this 
unfortunate  Princess,  manifestations  of  attachment  to 
her  person,  and  to  the  King's  cause,  would  frequently 
raise  agreeable  illusions  in  her  mind,  or  present  to 
her  the  affecting  spectacle  of  tears  shed  for  her  sor- 
rows. I  was  one  day,  during  this  same  visit  to  St. 
Cloud,  witness  of  a  very  touching  scene,  which  we 
took  great  care  to  keep  secret.     It  was  four  in  the 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  265 

afternoon;  the  guard  was  not  set;  there  was  scarcely 
anybody  at  St.  Cloud  that  day,  and  I  was  reading  to 
the  Queen,  who  was  at  work  in  a  room  the  balcony  of 
which  hung  over  the  courtyard.  The  windows  were 
closed,  yet  we  heard  a  sort  of  inarticulate  murmur 
from  a  great  number  of  voices.  The  Queen  desired 
me  to  go  and  see  what  it  was;  I  raised  the  muslin 
curtain,  and  perceived  more  than  fifty  persons  beneath 
the  balcony:  this  group  consisted  of  women,  young 
and  old,  perfectly  well  dressed  in  the  country  costume, 
old  chevaliers  of  St.  Louis,  young  knights  of  Malta, 
and  a  few  ecclesiastics.  I  told  the  Queen  it  was 
probably  an  assemblage  of  persons  residing  in  the 
neighbourhood  who  wished  to  see  her.  She  rose, 
opened  the  window,  and  appeared  in  the  balcony;  im- 
mediately all  these  worthy  people  said  to  her,  in  an 
undertone :  "  Courage,  Madame ;  good  Frenchmen 
suffer  for  you,  and  with  you;  they  pray  for  you. 
Heaven  will  hear  their  prayers;  we  love  you,  we  re- 
spect you,  we  will  continue  to  venerate  our  virtuous 
King."  The  Queen  burst  into  tears,  and  held  her 
handkerchief  to  her  eyes.  "  Poor  Queen !  she  weeps !  " 
said  the  women  and  young  girls;  but  the  dread  of 
exposing  her  Majesty,  and  even  the  persons  who 
showed  so  much  affection  for  her,  to  observation, 
prompted  me  to  take  her  hand,  and  prevail  upon  her 
to  retire  into  her  room;  and,  raising  my  eyes,  I  gave 
the  excellent  people  to  understand  that  my  conduct 
was  dictated  by  prudence.  They  comprehended  me, 
for  I  heard,  "That  lady  is  right;"  and  afterwards, 
"  Farewell,  Madame!  "  from  several  of  them;  and  all 
this  in  accents  of  feeling  so  true  and  so  mournful, 
that  I  am  affected  at  the  recollection  of  them  even 
after  a  lapse  of  twenty  years. 

A  few  days  afterwards  the  insurrection  of  Nancy 
took  place.     Only  the  ostensible  cause  is  known;  there 


266  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

was  another,  of  which  I  might  have  been  in  full  pos- 
session, if  the  great  confusion  I  was  in  upon  the 
subject  had  not  deprived  me  of  the  power  of  paying 
attention  to  it.  I  will  endeavour  to  make  myself  un- 
derstood. In  the  early  part  of  September  the  Queen, 
as  she  was  going  to  bed,  desired  me  to  let  all  her  peo- 
ple go,  and  to  remain  with  her  myself;  when  we  were 
alone  she  said  to  me,  "  The  King  will  come  here  at 
midnight.  You  know  that  he  has  always  shown  you 
marks  of  distinction;  he  now  proves  his  confidence  in 
you  by  selecting  you  to  write  down  the  whole  affair 
of  Nancy  from  his  dictation.  He  must  have  several 
copies  of  it."  At  midnight  the  King  came  to  the 
Queen's  apartments,  and  said  to  me,  smiling,  "  You 
did  not  expect  to  become  my  secretary,  and  that,  too, 
during  the  night."  I  followed  the  King  into  the  coun- 
cil chamber.  I  found  there  sheets  of  paper,  an  ink- 
stand, and  pens  all  ready  prepared.  He  sat  down 
by  my  side  and  dictated  to  me  the  report  of  the  Mar- 
quis de  Bouille,  which  he  himself  copied  at  the  same 
time.  My  hand  trembled;  I  wrote  with  difficulty; 
my  reflections  scarcely  left  me  sufficient  power  of 
attention  to  listen  to  the  King.  The  large  table,  the 
velvet  cloth,  seats  which  ought  to  have  been  filled  by 
none  but  the  King's  chief  councillors;  what  that  cham- 
ber had  been,  and  what  it  was  at  that  moment,  when 
the  King  was  employing  a  woman  in  an  office  which 
had  so  little  affinity  with  her  ordinary  functions ;  the 
misfortunes  which  had  brought  him  to  the  necessity 
of  doing  so, — all  these  ideas  made  such  an  impression 
upon  me  that  when  I  had  returned  to  the  Queen's 
apartments  I  could  not  sleep  for  the  remainder  of  the 
night,  nor  could  I  remember  what  I  had  written. 

The  more  I  saw  that  I  had  the  happiness  to  be  of 
some  use  to  my  employers,  the  more  scrupulously 
careful  was  I  to  live  entirely  with  my  family;  and  I 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  267 

never  indulged  in  any  conversation  which  could  be- 
tray the  intimacy  to  which  I  was  admitted;  but  noth- 
ing at  Court  remains  long  concealed,  and  I  soon  saw 
I  had  many  enemies.  The  means  of  injuring  others 
in  the  minds  of  sovereigns  are  but  too  easily  obtained, 
and  they  had  become  still  more  so,  since  the  mere 
suspicion  of  communication  with  partisans  of  the 
Revolution  was  sufficient  to  forfeit  the  esteem  and 
confidence  of  the  King  and  Queen;  happily,  my  con- 
duct protected  me,  with  them,  against  calumny.  I 
had  left  St.  Cloud  two  days,  when  I  received  at 
Paris  a  note  from  the  Queen,  containing  these  words : 
"  Come  to  St.  Cloud  immediately ;  I  have  something 
concerning  you  to  communicate."  I  set  off  without 
loss  of  time.  Her  Majesty  told  me  she  had  a  sacrifice 
to  request  of  me;  I  answered  that  it  was  made.  She 
said  it  went  so  far  as  the  renunciation  of  a  friend's 
society;  that  such  a  renunciation  was  always  painful, 
but  that  it  must  be  particularly  so  to  me;  that,  for 
her  own  part,  it  might  have  been  very  useful  that  a 
deputy,  a  man  of  talent,  should  be  constantly  received 
at  my  house;  but  at  this  moment  she  thought  only  of 
my  welfare.  The  Queen  then  informed  me  that  the 
ladies  of  the  bedchamber  had,  the  preceding  evening, 
assured  her  that  M.  de  Beaumetz,  deputy  from  the 
nobility  of  Artois,  who  had  taken  his  seat  on  the  left 
of  the  Assembly,  spent  his  whole  time  at  my  house. 
Perceiving  on  what  false  grounds  the  attempt  to  in- 
jure me  was  based,  I  replied  respectfully,  but  at  the 
same  time  smiling,  that  it  was  impossible  for  me  to 
make  the  sacrifice  exacted  by  her  Majesty;  that  M. 
de  Beaumetz,  a  man  of  great  judgment,  had  not  de- 
termined to  cross  over  to  the  left  of  the  Assembly 
with  the  intention  of  afterwards  making  himself  un- 
popular by  spending  his  time  with  the  Queen's  first 
woman;  and  that,  ever  since  the  1st  of  October,  1789, 


268  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

I  had  seen  him  nowhere  but  at  the  play,  or  in  the 
public  walks,  and  even  then  without  his  ever  coming 
to  speak  to  me;  that  this  line  of  conduct  had  appeared 
to  me  perfectly  consistent :  for  whether  he  was  desir- 
ous to  please  the  popular  party,  or  to  be  sought  after 
by  the  Court,  he  could  not  act  in  any  other  way 
towards  me.  The  Queen  closed  this  explanation  by 
saying,  "  Oh !  it  is  clear,  as  clear  as  the  day !  this 
opportunity  for  trying  to  do  you  an  injury  is  very  ill 
chosen;  but  be  cautious  in  your  slightest  actions;  you 
perceive  that  the  confidence  placed  in  you  by  the  King 
and  myself  raises  you  up  powerful  enemies." 

The  private  communications  which  were  still  kept 
up  between  the  Court  and  Mirabeau  at  length  procured 
him  an  interview  with  the  Queen,  in  the  gardens  of  St. 
Cloud.  He  left  Paris  on  horseback,  on  pretence  of 
going  into  the  country,  to  M.  de  Clavieres,  one  of  his 
friends;  but  he  stopped  at  one  of  the  gates  of  the  gar- 
dens of  St.  Cloud,  and  was  led  to  a  spot  situated  in  the 
highest  part  of  the  private  garden,  where  the  Queen 
was  waiting  for  him.  She  told  me  she  accosted  him 
by  saying,  "  With  a  common  enemy,  with  a  man  who 
had  sworn  to  destroy  monarchy  without  appreciating 
its  utility  among  a  great  people,  I  should  at  this  mo- 
ment be  guilty  of  a  most  ill-advised  step;  but  in 
speaking  to  a  Mirabeau,"  etc.  The  poor  Queen  was 
delighted  at  having  discovered  this  method  of  exalting 
him  above  all  others  of  his  principles;  and  in  im- 
parting the  particulars  of  this  interview  to  me  she 
said,  "  Do  you  know  that  those  words,  '  a  Mirabeau,' 
appeared  to  flatter  him  exceedingly."  On  leaving  the 
Queen  he  said  to  her  with  warmth,  "  Madame,  the 
monarchy  is  saved !  "  It  must  have  been  soon  after- 
wards that  Mirabeau  received  considerable  sums  of 
money.  He  showed  it  too  plainly  by  the  increase 
of  his  expenditure.     Already  did  some  of  his  remarks 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  269 

upon  the  necessity  of  arresting  the  progress  of  the 
democrats  circulate  in  society.  Being  once  invited  to 
meet  a  person  at  dinner  who  was  very  much  attached 
to  the  Queen,  he  learned  that  that  person  withdrew  on 
hearing  that  he  was  one  of  the  guests;  the  party  who 
invited  him  told  him  this  with  some  degree  of  satisfac- 
tion ;  but  all  were  very  much  astonished  when  they 
heard  Mirabeau  eulogise  the  absent  guest,  and  declare 
that  in  his  place  he  would  have  done  the  same;  but, 
he  added,  they  had  only  to  invite  that  person  again 
in  a  few  months,  and  he  would  then  dine  with  the  re- 
storer of  the  monarchy.  Mirabeau  forgot  that  it  was 
more  easy  to  do  harm  than  good,  and  thought  himself 
the  political  Atlas  of  the  whole  world. 

Outrages  and  mockery  were  incessantly  mingled 
with  the  audacious  proceedings  of  the  revolutionists. 
It  was  customary  to  give  serenades  under  the  King's 
windows  on  New  Year's  Day.  The  band  of  the  Na- 
tional Guard  repaired  thither  on  that  festival  in  1791 ; 
in  allusion  to  the  liquidation  of  the  debts  of  the  State, 
decreed  by  the  Assembly,  they  played  solely,  and  re- 
peatedly, that  air  from  the  comic  opera  of  the  "  Debts," 
the  burden  of  which  is,  "  But  our  creditors  are  paid, 
and  that  makes  us  easy." 

On  the  same  day  some  "  conquerors  of  the  Bastille," 
grenadiers  of  the  Parisian  guard,  preceded  by  military 
music,  came  to  present  to  the  young  Dauphin,  as  a 
New  Year's  gift,  a  box  of  dominoes,  made  of  some  of 
the  stone  and  marble  of  which  that  state  prison  was 
built.  The  Queen  gave  me  this  inauspicious  curios- 
ity, desiring  me  to  preserve  it,  as  it  would  be  a  curious 
illustration  of  the  history  of  the  Revolution.  Upon 
the  lid  were  engraved  some  bad  verses,  the  purport 
of  which  was  as  follows :  "  Stones  from  those  walls, 
which  enclosed  the  innocent  victims  of  arbitrary 
power,  have  been  converted  into  a  toy,   to  be  pre- 


270  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

seated  to  you,  Monseigneur,  as  a  mark  of  the  people's 
love ;  and  to  teach  you  their  power." 

The  Queen  said  that  M.  de  La  Fayette's  thirst  for 
popularity  induced  him  to  lend  himself,  without  dis- 
crimination, to  all  popular  follies.  Her  distrust  of 
the  General  increased  daily,  and  grew  so  powerful 
that  when,  towards  the  end  of  the  Revolution,  he 
seemed  willing  to  support  the  tottering  throne,  she 
could  never  bring  herself  to  incur  so  great  an  obliga- 
tion to  him. 

M.  de  J ,  a  colonel  attached  to  the  staff  of  the 

army,  was  fortunate  enough  to  render  several  services 
to  the  Queen,  and  acquitted  himself  with  discretion 
and  dignity  of  various  important  missions.  Their 
Majesties  had  the  highest  confidence  in  him,  although 
it  frequently  happened  that  his  prudence,  when  incon- 
siderate projects  were  under  discussion,  brought  upon 
him  the  charge  of  adopting  the  principles  of  the  con- 
stitutionals. Being  sent  to  Turin,  he  had  some  dif- 
ficulty in  dissuading  the  Princes  from  a  scheme  they 
had  formed  at  that  period  of  reentering  France,  with 
a  very  weak  army,  by  way  of  Lyons ;  and  when,  in 
a  council  which  lasted  till  three  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, he  showed  his  instructions,  and  demonstrated 
that  the  measure  would  endanger  the  King,  the  Comte 
d'Artois  alone  declared  against  the  plan,  which 
emanated  from  the  Prince  de  Conde. 

Among  the  persons  employed  in  subordinate  situa- 
tions, whom  the  critical  circumstances  of  the  times 
involved  in  affairs  of  importance,  was  M.  de  Goguelat, 
a  geographical  engineer  at  Versailles,  and  an  excel- 
lent draughtsman.  He  made  plans  of  St.  Cloud  and 
Trianon  for  the  Queen ;  she  was  very  much  pleased 
with  them,  and  had  the  engineer  admitted  into  the 
staff  of  the  army.  At  the  commencement  of  the 
Revolution  he  was  sent  to  Count  Esterhazy,  at  Va- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  271 

lenciennes,  in  the  capacity  of  aide-de-camp.  The  lat- 
ter rank  was  given  him  solely  to  get  him  away  from 
Versailles,  where  his  rashness  endangered  the  Queen 
during  the  earlier  months  of  the  Assembly  of  the 
States  General.  Making  a  parade  of  his  devotion  to 
the  King's  interests,  he  went  repeatedly  to  the  trib- 
unes of  the  Assembly,  and  there  openly  railed  at  all 
the  motions  of  the  deputies,  and  then  returned  to  the 
Queen's  antechamber,  where  he  repeated  all  that  he 
had  just  heard,  or  had  had  the  imprudence  to  say. 
Unfortunately,  at  the  same  time  that  the  Queen  sent 
away  M.  de  Goguelat,  she  still  believed  that,  in  a 
dangerous  predicament,  requiring  great  self-devotion, 
the  man  might  be  employed  advantageously.  In  1791 
he  was  commissioned  to  act  in  concert  with  the  Mar- 
quis de  Bouille  in  furtherance  of  the  King's  intended 
escape. 

Projectors  in  great  numbers  endeavoured  to  intro- 
duce themselves  not  only  to  the  Queen,  but  to  Madame 
Elisabeth,  who  had  communications  with  many  indi- 
viduals who  took  upon  themselves  to  make  plans  for 
the  conduct  of  the  Court.  The  Baron  de  Gilliers  and 
M.  de  Vanoise  were  of  this  description;  they  went  to 
the  Baronne  de  Mackau's,  where  the  Princess  spent 
almost  all  her  evenings.  The  Queen  did  not  like  these 
meetings,  where  Madame  Elisabeth  might  adopt  views 
in  opposition  to  the  King's  intentions  or  her  own. 

The  Queen  gave  frequent  audiences  to  M.  de  La 
Fayette.  One  day,  when  he  was  in  her  inner  closet, 
his  aides-de-camp,  who  waited  for  him,  were  walking 
up  and  down  the  great  room  where  the  persons  in 
attendance  remained.  Some  imprudent  young  women 
were  thoughtless  enough  to  say,  with  the  intention  of 
being  overheard  by  those  officers,  that  it  was  very 
alarming  to  see  the  Queen  alone  with  a  rebel  and  a 
brigand.     I   was   annoyed   at  their  indiscretion,   and 


2-J2  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

imposed  silence  on  them.  One  of  them  persisted  in 
the  appellation  "  brigand."  I  told  her  that  M.  de  La 
Fayette  well  deserved  the  name  of  rebel,  but  that  the 
title  of  leader  of  a  party  was  given  by  history  to  every 
man  commanding  forty  thousand  men,  a  capital,  and 
forty  leagues  of  country;  that  kings  had  frequently 
treated  with  such  leaders,  and  if  it  was  convenient  to 
the  Queen  to  do  the  same,  it  remained  for  us  only  to 
be  silent  and  respect  her  actions.  On  the  morrow  the 
Queen,  with  a  serious  air,  but  with  the  greatest  kind- 
ness, asked  what  I  had  said  respecting  M.  de  La 
Fayette  on  the  preceding  day;  adding  that  she  had 
been  assured  I  had  enjoined  her  women  silence,  be- 
cause they  did  not  like  him,  and  that  I  had  taken  his 
part.  I  repeated  what  had  passed  to  the  Queen,  word 
for  word.  She  condescended  to  tell  me  that  I  had 
done  perfectly  right. 

Whenever  any  false  reports  respecting  me  were 
conveyed  to  her  she  was  kind  enough  to  inform  me 
of  them;  and  they  had  no  effect  on  the  confidence 
with  which  she  continued  to  honour  me,  and  which  I 
am  happy  to  think  I  have  justified  even  at  the  risk  of 
my  life. 

Mesdames,  the  King's  aunts,  set  out  from  Bellevue 
in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1791.  Alexandre  Ber- 
thier,  afterwards  Prince  de  Neufchatel,  then  a  colonel 
on  the  staff  of  the  army,  and  commandant  of  the 
National  Guard  of  Versailles,  facilitated  the  depar- 
ture of  Mesdames.  The  Jacobins  of  that  town  pro- 
cured his  dismissal,  and  he  ran  the  greatest  risk,  on 
account  of  having  rendered  this  service  to  these  Prin- 
cesses. I  went  to  take  leave  of  Madame  Victoire. 
I  little  thought  that  I  was  then  seeing  her  for  the  last 
time.  She  received  me  alone  in  her  closet,  and  assured 
me  that  she  hoped,  as  well  as  wished,  soon  to  return 
to   France;   that   the   French   would   be  much   to   be 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  273 

pitied  if  the  excesses  of  the  Revolution  should  arrive 
at  such  a  pitch  as  to  force  her  to  prolong  her  absence. 
I  knew  from  the  Queen  that  the  departure  of  Mes- 
dames  was  deemed  necessary,  in  order  to  leave  the 
King  free  to  act  when  he  should  be  compelled  to  go 
away  with  his  family.  It  being  impossible  that  the 
constitution  of  the  clergy  should  be  otherwise  than  in 
direct  opposition  to  the  religious  principles  of  Mes- 
dames,  they  thought  their  journey  to  Rome  would  be 
attributed  to  piety  alone.  It  was,  however,  difficult 
to  deceive  an  Assembly  which  weighed  the  slightest 
actions  of  the  royal  family,  and  from  that  moment 
they  were  more  than  ever  alive  to  what  was  passing 
at  the  Tuileries. 

Mesdames  were  desirous  of  taking  Madame  Elisa- 
beth to  Rome.  The  free  exercise  of  religion,  the  hap- 
piness of  taking  refuge  with  the  head  of  the  Church, 
and  the  prospect  of  living  in  safety  with  her  aunts, 
whom  she  tenderly  loved,  were  sacrificed  by  that  virtu- 
ous Princess  to  her  attachment  to  the  King. 

The  oath  required  of  priests  by  the  civil  constitution 
of  the  clergy  introduced  into  France  a  division  which 
added  to  the  dangers  by  which  the  King  was  already 
surrounded.  Mirabeau  spent  a  whole  night  with  the 
cure  of  St.  Eustache,  confessor  of  the  King  and  Queen, 
to  persuade  him  to  take  the  oath  required  by  that 
constitution.  Their  Majesties  chose  another  con- 
fessor, who  remained  unknown. 

A  few  months  afterwards  (2d  April,  1791),  the 
too  celebrated  Mirabeau,  the  mercenary  democrat  and 
venal  royalist,  terminated  his  career.  The  Queen  re- 
gretted him,  and  was  astonished  at  her  own  regret; 
but  she  had  hoped  that  he  who  had  possessed  adroit- 
ness and  weight  enough  to  throw  everything  into 
confusion  would  have  been  able  by  the  same  means 
to  repair  the  mischief  he  had  caused.     Much  has  been 


274  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

said  respecting  the  cause  of  Mirabeau's  death.  M. 
Cabanis,  his  friend  and  physician,  denied  that  he  was 
poisoned.  M.  Vicq-d'Azyr  assured  the  Queen  that 
the  proces-verbal  drawn  up  on  the  state  of  the  intes- 
tines would  apply  just  as  well  to  a  case  of  death  pro- 
duced by  violent  remedies  as  to  one  produced  by 
poison.  He  said,  also,  that  the  report  had  been  faith- 
ful; but  that  it  was  prudent  to  conclude  it  by  a  decla- 
ration of  natural  death,  since,  in  the  critical  state  in 
which  France  then  was,  if  a  suspicion  of  foul  play 
were  admitted,  a  person  innocent  of  any  such  crime 
might  be  sacrificed  to  public  vengeance. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

IN  the  beginning  of  the  spring  of  1791,  the  King, 
tired  of  remaining  at  the  Tuileries,  wished  to  re- 
turn to  St.  Cloud.  His  whole  household  had  al- 
ready gone,  and  his  dinner  was  prepared  there.  He 
got  into  his  carriage  at  one ;  the  guard  mutinied,  shut 
the  gates,  and  declared  they  would  not  let  him  pass. 
This  event  certainly  proceeded  from  some  suspicion 
of  a  plan  to  escape.  Two  persons  who  drew  near  the 
King's  carriage  were  very  ill  treated.  My  father-in- 
law  was  violently  laid  hold  of  by  the  guards,  who  took 
his  sword  from  him.  The  King  and  his  family  were 
obliged  to  alight  and  return  to  their  apartments.  They 
did  not  much  regret  this  outrage  in  their  hearts;  they 
saw  in  it  a  justification,  even  in  the  eyes  of  the  people, 
of  their  intention  to  leave  Paris. 

So  early  as  the  month  of  March  in  the  same  year, 
the  Queen  began  to  busy  herself  in  preparing  for  her 
departure.  I  spent  that  month  with  her,  and  executed 
a  great  number  of  secret  orders  which  she  gave  me 
respecting  the  intended  event.  It  was  with  uneasiness 
that  I  saw  her  occupied  with  cares  which  seemed  to 
me  useless,  and  even  dangerous,  and  I  remarked  to 
her  that  the  Queen  of  France  would-  find  linen  and 
gowns  everywhere.  My  observations  were  made  in 
vain;  she  determined  to  have  a  complete  wardrobe 
with  her  at  Brussels,  as  well  for  her  children  as  her- 
self. I  went  out  alone  and  almost  disguised  to  pur- 
chase the  articles  necessary  and  have  them  made  up. 

I  ordered  six  chemises  at  the  shop  of  one  seam- 
275 


276  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

stress,  six  at  that  of  another,  gowns,  combing  cloths, 
etc.  My  sister  had  a  complete  set  of  clothes  made 
for  Madame,  by  the  measure  of  her  eldest  daughter, 
and  I  ordered  clothes  for  the  Dauphin  from  those  of 
my  son.  I  filled  a  trunk  with  these  things,  and  ad- 
dressed them,  by  the  Queen's  orders,  to  one  of  her 
women,  my  aunt,  Madame  Cardon, — a  widow  living 
at  Arras,  by  virtue  of  an  unlimited  leave  of  absence, 
— in  order  that  she  might  be  ready  to  start  for  Brus- 
sels, or  any  other  place,  as  soon  as  she  should  be 
directed  to  do  so.  This  lady  had  landed  property  in 
Austrian  Flanders,  and  could  at  any  time  quit  Arras 
unobserved. 

The  Queen  was  to  take  only  her  first  woman  in 
attendance  with  her  from  Paris.  She  apprised  me 
that  if  I  should  not  be  on  duty  at  the  moment  of 
departure,  she  would  make  arrangements  for  my  join- 
ing her.  She  determined  also  to  take  her  travelling 
dressing-case.  She  consulted  me  on  her  idea  of  send- 
ing it  off,  under  pretence  of  making  a  present  of  it  to 
the  Archduchess  Christina,  Gouvernante  of  the  Neth- 
erlands. I  ventured  to  oppose  this  plan  strongly,  and 
observed  that,  amidst  so  many  people  who  watched 
her  slightest  actions,  there  would  be  found  a  sufficient 
number  sharp-sighted  enough  to  discover  that  it  was 
only  a  pretext  for  sending  away  the  property  in  ques- 
tion before  her  own  departure;  she  persisted  in  her 
intention,  and  all  I  could  arrange  was  that  the  dress- 
ing-case should  not  be  removed  from  her  apartment, 

and  that  M.  de ,  cliarge  d'affaires  from  the  Court 

of  Vienna  during  the  absence  of  the  Comte  de  Mercy, 
should  come  and  ask  her,  at  her  toilet,  before  all  her 
people,  to  order  one  exactly  like  her  own  for  Madame 
the  Gouvernante  of  the  Netherlands.  The  Queen, 
therefore,  commanded  me  before  the  charge  d'affaires 
to  order  the  article  in  question.     This  occasioned  only 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  277 

an  expense  of  five  hundred  louis,  and  appeared  calcu- 
lated to  lull  suspicion  completely. 

About  the  middle  of  May,  1791,  a  month  after  the 
Queen  had  ordered  me  to  bespeak  the  dressing-case, 
she  asked  me  whether  it  would  soon  be  finished.  I 
sent  for  the  ivory-turner  who  had  it  in  hand.  He 
could  not  complete  it  for  six  weeks.  I  informed  the 
Queen  of  this,  and  she  told  me  she  should  not  be  able 
to  wait  for  it,  as  she  was  to  set  out  in  the  course  of 
June.  She  added  that,  as  she  had  ordered  her  sister's 
dressing-case  in  the  presence  of  all  her  attendants, 
she  had  taken  a  sufficient  precaution,  especially  by 
saying  that  her  sister  was  out  of  patience  at  not 
receiving  it,  and  that  therefore  her  own  must  be 
emptied  and  cleaned,  and  taken  to  the  charge  d'af- 
faires, who  would  send  it  off.  I  executed  this  order 
without  any  appearance  of  mystery.  I  desired  the 
wardrobe  woman  to  take  out  of  the  dressing-case  all 
that  it  contained,  because  that  intended  for  the  Arch- 
duchess could  not  be  finished  for  some  time;  and  to 
take  great  care  to  leave  no  remains  of  the  perfumes 
which  might  not  suit  that  Princess. 

The  woman  in  question  executed  her  commission 
punctually;  but,  on  the  evening  of  that  very  day, 
the  15th  of  May,  1791,  she  informed  M.  Bailly,  the 
Mayor  of  Paris,  that  preparations  were  making  at 
the  Queen's  residence  for  a  departure;  and  that  the 
dressing-case  was  already  sent  off,  under  pretence  of 
its  being  presented  to  the  Archduchess  Christina. 

It  was  necessary,  likewise,  to  send  off  all  the  dia- 
monds belonging  to  the  Queen.  Her  Majesty  shut 
herself  up  with  me  in  a  closet  in  the  entresol,  looking 
into  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries,  and  we  packed  all 
the  diamonds,  rubies,  and  pearls  she  possessed  in  a 
small  chest.  The  cases  containing  these  ornaments, 
being  altogether  of  considerable  bulk,  had  been  de- 


278  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

posited,  ever  since  the  6th  of  October,  1789,  with  the 
valet  de  chambre  who  had  the  care  of  the  Queen's 
jewels.  That  faithful  servant,  himself  detecting  the 
use  that  was  to  be  made  of  the  valuables,  destroyed 
all  the  boxes,  which  were,  as  usual,  covered  with  red 
morocco,  marked  with  the  cipher  and  arms  of  France. 
It  would  have  been  impossible  for  him  to  hide  them 
from  the  eyes  of  the  popular  inquisitors  during  the 
domiciliary  visits  in  January,  1793,  and  the  discovery 
might  have  formed  a  ground  of  accusation  against 
the  Queen. 

I  had  but  a  few  articles  to  place  in  the  box  when 
the  Queen  was  compelled  to  desist  from  packing  it, 
being  obliged  to  go  down  to  cards,  which  began  at 
seven  precisely.  She  therefore  desired  me  to  leave 
all  the  diamonds  upon  the  sofa,  persuaded  that,  as 
she  took  the  key  of  her  closet  herself,  and  there  was 
a  sentinel  under  the  window,  no  danger  was  to  be 
apprehended  for  that  night,  and  she  reckoned  upon 
returning  very  early  next  day  to  finish  the  work. 

The  same  woman  who  had  given  information  of  the 
sending  away  of  the  dressing-case  was  also  deputed 
by  the  Queen  to  take  care  of  her  more  private  rooms. 
No  other  servant  was  permitted  to  enter  them;  she 
renewed  the  flowers,  swept  the  carpets,  etc.  The 
Queen  received  back  the  key,  when  the  woman  had 
finished  putting  them  in  order,  from  her  own  hands; 
but,  desirous  of  doing  her  duty  well,  and  sometimes 
having  the  key  in  her  possession  for  a  few  minutes 
only,  she  had  probably  on  that  account  ordered  one 
without  the  Queen's  knowledge.  It  is  impossible  not 
to  believe  this,  since  the  despatch  of  the  diamonds 
was  the  subject  of  a  second  accusation  which  the 
Queen  heard  of  after  the  return  from  Varennes. 
She  made  a  formal  declaration  that  her  Majesty,  with 
the  assistance  of   Madame  Campari,   had  packed  up 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  279 

all  her  jewelry  some  time  before  the  departure ;  that 
she  was  certain  of  it,  as  she  had  found  the  diamonds, 
and  the  cotton  which  served  to  wrap  them,  scat- 
tered upon  the  sofa  in  the  Queen's  closet  in  the  entre- 
sol; and  most  assuredly  she  could  only  have  seen 
these  preparations  in  the  interval  between  seven  in 
the  evening  and  seven  in  the  morning.  The  Queen 
having  met  me  next  day  at  the  time  appointed,  the 
box  was  handed  over  to  Leonard,  her  Majesty's  hair- 
dresser, who  left  the  country  with  the  Due  de  Choi- 
seul.  The  box  remained  a  long  time  at  Brussels,  and 
at  length  got  into  the  hands  of  Madame  la  Duchesse 
d'Angouleme,  being  delivered  to  her  by  the  Emperor 
on  her  arrival  at  Vienna. 

In  order  not  to  leave  out  any  of  the  Queen's  dia- 
monds, I  requested  the  first  tirewoman  to  give  me 
the  body  of  the  full  dress,  and  all  the  assortment 
which  served  for  the  stomacher  of  the  full  dress  on 
days  of  state,  articles  which  always  remained  at  the 
wardrobe. 

The  superintendent  and  the  dame  d'honneur  being 
absent,  the  first  tirewoman  required  me  to  sign  a  re- 
ceipt, the  terms  of  which  she  dictated,  and  which  ac- 
quitted her  of  all  responsibility  for  these  diamonds. 
She  had  the  prudence  to  burn  this  document  on  the 
10th  of  August,  1792.  The  Queen  having  deter- 
mined, upon  the  arrest  at  Varennes,  not  to  have  her 
diamonds  brought  back  to  France,  was  often  anxious 
about  them  during  the  year  which  elapsed  between 
that  period  and  the  10th  of  August,  and  dreaded  above 
all  things  that  such  a  secret  should  be  discovered. 

In  consequence  of  a  decree  of  the  Assembly,  which 
deprived  the  King  of  the  custody  of  the  Crown  dia- 
monds, the  Queen  had  at  this  time  already  given  up 
those  which  she  generally  used. 

She  preferred  the  twelve  brilliants  called  Mazarins, 


28o  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

from  the  name  of  the  Cardinal  who  had  enriched  the 
treasury  with  them,  a  few  rose-cut  diamonds,  and 
the  Sanci.  She  determined  to  deliver,  with  her  own 
hands,  the  box  containing  them  to  the  commissioner 
nominated  by  the  National  Assembly  to  place  them 
with  the  Crown  diamonds.  After  giving  them  to 
him,  she  offered  him  a  row  of  pearls  of  great  beauty, 
saying  to  him  that  it  had  been  brought  into  France 
by  Anne  of  Austria;  that  it  was  invaluable,  on  ac- 
count of  its  rarity;  that,  having  been  appropriated  by 
that  Princess  to  the  use  of  the  Queens  and  Dauphin- 
esses,  Louis  XV.  had  placed  it  in  her  hands  on  her 
arrival  in  France;  but  that  she  considered  it  national 
property.  "  That  is  an  open  question,  Madame,"  said 
the  commissary.  "  Monsieur,"  replied  the  Queen,  "  it 
is  one  for  me  to  decide,  and  is  now  settled." 

My  father-in-law,  who  was  dying  of  the  grief  he 
felt  for  the  misfortunes  of  his  master  and  mistress, 
strongly  interested  and  occupied  the  thoughts  of  the 
Queen.  He  had  been  saved  from  the  fury  of  the  pop- 
ulace in  the  courtyard  of  the  Tuileries. 

On  the  day  on  which  the  King  was  compelled  by 
an  insurrection  to  give  up  a  journey  to  St.  Cloud,  her 
Majesty  looked  upon  this  trusty  servant  as  inevitably 
lost,  if,  on  going  away,  she  should  leave  him  in  the 
apartment  he  occupied  in  the  Tuileries.  Prompted 
by  her  apprehensions,  she  ordered  M.  Vicq-d'Azyr, 
her  physician,  to  recommend  him  the  waters  of  Mont 
d'Or  in  Auvergne,  and  to  persuade  him  to  set  off  at 
the  latter  end  of  May.  At  the  moment  of  my  going 
away  the  Queen  assured  me  that  the  grand  project 
would  be  executed  between  the  15th  and  the  20th  of 
June;  that  as  it  was  not  my  month  to  be  on  duty, 
"Madame  Thibaut  would  take  the  journey;  but  that 
she  had  many  directions  to  give  me  before  I  went. 
She  then  desired  me  to  write  to  my  aunt,  Madame 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  281 

Cardon,  who  was  by  that  time  in  possession  of  the 
clothes  which  I  had  ordered,  that  as  soon  as  she 
should  receive  a  letter  from  M.  Auguie,  the  date  of 
which  should  be  accompanied  with  a  B,  an  L,  or  an 
M,  she  was  to  proceed  with  her  property  to  Brussels, 
Luxembourg,  or  Montmedy.  She  desired  me  to  ex- 
plain the  meaning  of  these  three  letters  clearly  to  my 
sister,  and  to  leave  them  with  her  in  writing,  in  order 
that  at  the  moment  of  my  going  away  she  might  be 
able  to  take  my  place  in  writing  to  Arras. 

The  Queen  had  a  more  delicate  commission  for 
me;  it  was  to  select  from  among  my  acquaintance  a 
prudent  person  of  obscure  rank,  wholly  devoted  to  the 
interests  of  the  Court,  who  would  be  willing  to  receive 
a  portfolio  which  she  was  to  give  up  only  to  me,  or 
some  one  furnished  with  a  note  from  the  Queen.  She 
added  that  she  would  not  travel  with  this  portfolio, 
and  that  it  was  of  the  utmost  importance  that  my 
opinion  of  the  fidelity  of  the  person  to  whom  it  was 
to  be  entrusted  should  be  well  founded.  I  proposed  to 
her  Madame  Vallayer  Coster,  a  painter  of  the  Acad- 
emy, and  an  amiable  and  worthy  artist,  whom  I  had 
known  from  my  infancy.  She  lived  in  the  galleries 
of  the  Louvre.  The  choice  seemed  a  good  one.  The 
Queen  remembered  that  she  had  made  her  marriage 
possible  by  giving  her  a  place  in  the  financial  offices, 
and  added  that  gratitude  ought  sometimes  to  be  reck- 
oned on.  She  then  pointed  out  to  me  the  valet  be- 
longing to  her  toilet,  whom  I  was  to  take  with  me,  to 
show  him  the  residence  of  Madame  Coster,  so  that  he 
might  not  mistake  it  when  he  should  take  the  port- 
folio to  her.  The  day  before  her  departure  the  Queen 
particularly  recommended  me  to  proceed  to  Lyons  and 
the  frontiers  as  soon  as  she  should  have  started.  She 
advised  me  to  take  with  me  a  confidential  person,  fit 
to  remain  with  M.  Campan  when  I  should  leave  him, 


282  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  assured  me  that  she  would  give  orders  to  M. 

to  set  off  as  soon  as  she  should  be  known  to  be  at  the 
frontiers  in  order  to  protect  me  in  going  out.  She 
condescended  to  add  that,  having  a  long  journey  to 
make  in  foreign  countries,  she  determined  to  give  me 
three  hundred  louis. 

I  bathed  the  Queen's  hands  with  tears  at  the  mo- 
ment of  this  sorrowful  separation;  and,  having  money 
at  my  disposal,  I  declined  accepting  her  gold.     I  did 
not  dread  the  road  I  had  to  travel  in  order  to  rejoin 
her;  all  my  apprehension  was  that  by  treachery  or 
miscalculation    a    scheme,    the   safety    of    which    was 
not    sufficiently    clear    to    me,    should    fail.     I    could 
answer  for  all  those  who  belonged  to  the  service  im- 
mediately about  the  Queen's  person,  and  I  was  right; 
but  her  wardrobe  woman  gave  me  well-founded  rea- 
son for  alarm.     I  mentioned  to  the  Queen  many  rev- 
olutionary remarks  which  this  woman  had  made  to 
me  a  few  days  before.     Her  office  was  directly  under 
the  control  of  the  first  fcmme  de  chambre,  yet  she  had 
refused   to   obey   the   directions   I   gave   her,    talking 
insolently  to  me  about  "  hierarchy  overturned,  equal- 
ity  among  men,"   of   course   more   especially   among 
persons  holding  offices  at  Court;  and  this  jargon,  at 
that  time  in  the  mouths  of  all  the  partisans  of  the 
Revolution,  was  terminated  by  an  observation  which 
frightened  me.     "  You  know  many  important  secrets, 
madame,"  said  this  woman  to  me,  "  and  I  have  guessed 
quite  as  many.     I  am  not  a   fool;  I  see  all  that  is 
going  forward  here  in  consequence  of  the  bad  advice 
given  to  the  King  and  Queen;  I  could  frustrate  it  all 
if   I   chose."     This   argument,   in   which   I   had  been 
promptly  silenced,  left  me  pale  and  trembling.     Un- 
fortunately,  as   I  began  my  narrative  to  the  Queen 
with  particulars  of  this  woman's  refusal  to  obey  me, — 
and   sovereigns   are   all   their   lives   importuned   with 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  283 

complaints  upon  the  rights  of  places, — she  believed 
that  my  own  dissatisfaction  had  much  to  do  with  the 
step  I  was  taking;  and  she  did  not  sufficiently  fear 
the  woman.  Her  office,  although  a  very  inferior  one, 
brought  her  in  nearly  fifteen  thousand  francs  a  year. 
Still  young,  tolerably  handsome,  with  comfortable 
apartments  in  the  entresols  of  the  Tuileries,  she  saw  a 
great  deal  of  company,  and  in  the  evening  had  assem- 
blies, consisting  of  deputies  of  the  revolutionary  party. 
M.  de  Gouvion,  major-general  of  the  National  Guard, 
passed  almost  every  day  with  her;  and  it  is  to  be 
presumed  that  she  had  long  worked  for  the  party  in 
opposition  to  the  Court.  The  Queen  asked  her  for 
the  key  of  a  door  which  led  to  the  principal  vestibule 
of  the  Tuileries,  telling  her  she  wished  to  have  a 
similar  one,  that  she  might  not  be  under  the  necessity 
of  going  out  through  the  pavilion  of  Flora.  M.  de 
Gouvion  and  M.  de  La  Fayette  would,  of  course,  be 
apprised  of  this  circumstance,  and  well-informed  per- 
sons have  assured  me  that  on  the  very  night  of  the 
Queen's  departure  this  wretched  woman  had  a  spy 
with  her,  who  saw  the  royal  family  set  off. 

As  soon  as  I  had  executed  all  the  Queen's  orders, 
on  the  30th  of  May,  1791,  I  set  out  for  Auvergne,  and 
was  settled  in  the  gloomy  narrow  valley  of  Mont  d'Or, 
when,  about  four  in  the  afternoon  of  the  25th  of  June, 
I  heard  the  beat  of  a  drum  to  call  the  inhabitants  of 
the  hamlet  together.  When  it  had  ceased  I  heard  a 
hairdresser  from  Bresse  proclaim  in  the  provincial 
dialect  of  Auvergne :  "  The  King  and  Queen  were 
taking  flight  in  order  to  ruin  France,  but  I  come  to 
tell  you  that  they  are  stopped,  and  are  well  guarded 
by  a  hundred  thousand  men  under  arms."  I  still 
ventured  to  hope  that  he  was  repeating  only  a  false 
report,  but  he  went  on :  "  The  Queen,  with  her  well- 


284  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

known  haughtiness,  lifted  up  the  veil  which  covered1 
her  face,  and  said  to  the  citizens  who  were  upbraid- 
ing the  King,  '  Well,  since  you  recognise  your  sover- 
eign, respect  him.'  "  Upon  hearing  these  expressions, 
which  the  Jacobin  club  of  Clermont  could  not  have 
invented,  I  exclaimed,  "  The  news  is  true !  " 

I  immediately  learnt  that,  a  courier  being  come 
from  Paris  to  Clermont,  the  procureur  of  the  com- 
mune had  sent  off  messengers  to  the  chief  places  of 
the  canton ;  these  again  sent  couriers  to  the  districts, 
and  the  districts  in  like  manner  informed  the  vil- 
lages and  hamlets  which  they  contained.  It  was 
through  this  ramification,  arising  from  the  establish- 
ment of  clubs,  that  the  afflicting  intelligence  of  the 
misfortune  of  my  sovereigns  reached  me  in  the  wild- 
est part  of  France,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  snows  by 
which  we  were  environed. 

On  the  28th  I  received  a  note  written  in  a  hand 
which  I  recognised  as  that  of  M.  Diet,  usher  of  the 
Queen's  chamber,  but  dictated  by  her  Majesty.  It 
contained  these  words:  "I  am  this  moment  arrived; 
I  have  just  got  into  my  bath;  I  and  my  family  exist, 
that  is  all.  I  have  suffered  much.  Do  not  return 
to  Paris  until  I  desire  you.  Take  good  care  of  my 
poor  Campan,  soothe  his  sorrow.  Look  for  happier 
times."  This  note  was  for  greater  safety  addressed 
to  my  father-in-law's  valet  de  chambre.  What  were 
my  feelings  on  perceiving  that  after  the  most  dis- 
tressing crisis  we  were  among  the  first  objects  of  the 
kindness  of  that  unfortunate  Princess! 

M.  Campan  having  been  unable  to  benefit  by  the 
waters  of  Mont  d'Or,  and  the  first  popular  efferves- 
cence having  subsided,  I  thought  I  might  return  to 
Clermont.  The  committee  of  surveillance,  or  that  of 
general  safety,  had  resolved  to  arrest  me  there;  but 
the  Abbe  Louis,  formerly  a  parliamentary  counsellor,. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  285 

and  then  a  member  of  the  Constituent  Assembly,  was 
kind  enough  to  affirm  that  I  was  in  Auvergne  solely 
for  the  purpose  of  attending  my  father-in-law,  who 
was  extremely  ill.  The  precautions  relative  to  my 
absence  from  Paris  were  limited  to  placing  us  under 
the  surveillance  of  the  procureur  of  the  commune, 
who  was  at  the  same  time  president  of  the  Jacobin 
club;  but  he  was  also  a  physician  of  repute,  and 
without  having  any  doubt  that  he  had  received  secret 
orders  relative  to  me,  I  thought  it  would  favour  the 
chances  of  our  safety  if  I  selected  him  to  attend  my 
patient.  I  paid  him  according  to  the  rate  given  to 
the  best  Paris  physicians,  and  I  requested  him  to  visit 
us  every  morning  and  every  evening.  I  took  the  pre- 
caution to  subscribe  to  no  other  newspaper  than  the 
Moniteur.  Doctor  Monestier  (for  that  was  the  physi- 
cian's name)  frequently  took  upon  himself  to  read 
it  to  us.  Whenever  he  thought  proper  to  speak  of 
the  King  and  Queen  in  the  insulting  and  brutal  terms 
at  that  time  unfortunately  adopted  throughout  France, 
I  used  to  stop  him  and  say,  coolly,  "  Monsieur,  you 
are  here  in  company  with  the  servants  of  Louis  XVI. 
and  Marie  Antoinette.  Whatever  may  be  the  wrongs 
with  which  the  nation  believes  it  has  to  reproach 
them,  our  principles  forbid  our  losing  sight  of  the 
respect  due  to  them  from  us."  Notwithstanding  that 
he  was  an  inveterate  patriot,  he  felt  the  force  of  this 
remark,  and  even  procured  the  revocation  of  a  second 
order  for  our  arrest,  becoming  responsible  for  us  to 
the  committee  of  the  Assembly,  and  to  the  Jacobin 
society. 

The  two  chief  women  about  the  Dauphin,  who  had 
accompanied  the  Queen  to  Varennes,  Diet,  her  usher, 
and  Camot,  her  gargon  de  toilette, — the  women  on 
account  of  the  journey,  and  the  men  in  consequence  of 
the  denunciation  of  the  woman  belonging  to  the  ward- 


286  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

robe, — were  sent  to  the  prisons  of  the  Abbaye.  After 
my  departure  the  gargon  de  toilette  whom  I  had  taken 
to  Madame  Vallayer  Coster's  was  sent  there  with  the 
portfolio  she  had  agreed  to  receive.  This  commission 
could  not  escape  the  detestable  spy  upon  the  Queen. 
She  gave  information  that  a  portfolio  had  been  carried 
out  on  the  evening  of  the  departure,  adding  that  the 
King  had  placed  it  upon  the  Queen's  easy-chair,  that 
the  gargon  de  toilette  wrapped  it  up  in  a  napkin  and 
took  it  under  his  arm,  and  that  she  did  not  know 
where  he  had  carried  it.  The  man,  who  was  re- 
markable for  his  fidelity,  underwent  three  examina- 
tions without  making  the  slightest  disclosure.  M. 
Diet,  a  man  of  good  family,  a  servant  on  whom  the 
Queen  placed  particular  reliance,  likewise  experienced 
the  severest  treatment.  At  length,  after  a  lapse  of 
three  weeks,  the  Queen  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  re- 
lease of  her  servants. 

The  Queen,  about  the  15th  of  August,  had  me  in- 
formed by  letter  that  I  might  come  back  to  Paris 
without  being  under  any  apprehension  of  arrest  there, 
and  that  she  greatly  desired  my  return.  I  brought 
my  father-in-law  back  in  a  dying  state,  and  on  the 
day  preceding  that  of  the  acceptation  of  the  consti- 
tutional act,  I  informed  the  Queen  that  he  was  no 
more.  "  The  loss  of  Lassonne  and  Campan,"  said 
she,  as  she  applied  her  handkerchief  to  her  stream- 
ing eyes,  "  has  taught  me  how  valuable  such  subjects 
are  to  their  masters.  I  shall  never  find  their  equals." 
I  resumed  my  functions  about  the  Queen  on  the 
1st  of  September,  1791.  She  was  unable  then  to 
converse  with  me  on  all  the  lamentable  events  which 
had  occurred  since  the  time  of  my  leaving  her,  hav- 
ing on  guard  near  her  an  officer  whom  she  dreaded 
more  than  all  the  others.  She  merely  told  me  that 
1  should  have  some  secret  services  to  perform  for  her, 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  287 

and  that  she  would  not  create  uneasiness  by  long 
conversations  with  me,  my  return  being  a  subject  of 
suspicion.  But  next  day  the  Queen,  well  knowing 
the  discretion  of  the  officer  who  was  to  be  on  guard 
that  night,  had  my  bed  placed  very  near  hers,  and 
having  obtained  the  favour  of  having  the  door  shut, 
when  I  was  in  bed  she  began  the  narrative  of  the 
journey,  and  the  unfortunate  arrest  at  Varennes.  I 
asked  her  permission  to  put  on  my  gown,  and  kneel- 
ing by  her  bedside  I  remained  until  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  listening  with  the  liveliest  and  most 
sorrowful  interest  to  the  account  I  am  about  to  re- 
peat, and  of  which  I  have  seen  various  details,  of 
tolerable  exactness,  in  papers  of  the  time. 

The  King  entrusted  Count  Fersen  with  all  the 
preparations  for  departure.  The  carriage  was  or- 
dered by  him;  the  passport,  in  the  name  of  Madame 
de  Korf,  was  procured  through  his  connection  with 
that  lady,  who  was  a  foreigner.  And  lastly,  he  him- 
self drove  the  royal  family,  as  their  coachman,  as  far 
as  Bondy,  where  the  travellers  got  into  their  berlin. 
Madame  Brunier  and  Madame  Neuville,  the  first 
women  of  Madame  and  the  Dauphin,  there  joined  the 
principal  carriage.  They  were  in  a  cabriolet.  Mon- 
sieur and  Madame  set  out  from  the  Luxembourg  and 
took  another  road.  They  as  well  as  the  King  were 
recognised  by  the  master  of  the  last  post  in  France, 
but  this  man,  devoting  himself  to  the  fortunes  of  the 
Prince,  left  the  French  territory,  and.  drove  them 
himself  as  postilion.  Madame  Thibaut,  the  Queen's 
first  woman,  reached  Brussels  without  the  slightest 
difficulty.  Madame  Cardon,  from  Arras,  met  with  no 
hindrance;  and  Leonard,  the  Queen's  hairdresser, 
passed  through  Varennes  a  few  hours  before  the  royal 
family.  Fate  had  reserved  all  its  obstacles  for  the 
unfortunate  monarch. 


288  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

Nothing  worthy  of  notice  occurred  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  journey.  The  travellers  were  detained 
a  short  time,  about  twelve  leagues  from  Paris,  by 
some  repairs  which  the  carriage  required.  The  King 
chose  to  walk  up  one  of  the  hills,  and  these  two  cir- 
cumstances caused  a  delay  of  three  hours,  precisely 
at  the  time  when  it  was  intended  that  the  berlin 
should  have  been  met,  just  before  reaching  Varennes, 
by  the  detachment  commanded  by  M.  de  Goguelat. 
This  detachment  was  punctually  stationed  upon  the 
spot  fixed  on,  with  orders  to  wait  there  for  the  ar- 
rival of  certain  treasure,  which  it  was  to  escort;  but 
the  peasantry  of  the  neighbourhood,  alarmed  at  the 
sight  of  this  body  of  troops,  came  armed  with  staves, 
and  asked  several  questions,  which  manifested  their 
anxiety.  M.  de  Goguelat,  fearful  of  causing  a  riot, 
and  not  finding  the  carriage  arrive  as  he  expected, 
divided  his  men  into  two  companies,  and  unfortunately 
made  them  leave  the  highway  in  order  to  return  to 
Varennes  by  two  cross  roads.  The  King  looked  out 
of  the  carriage  at  Ste.  Menehould,  and  asked  several 
questions  concerning  the  road.  Drouet,  the  post- 
master, struck  by  the  resemblance  of  Louis  to  the  im- 
pression of  his  head  upon  the  assignats,  drew  near 
the  carriage,  felt  convinced  that  he  recognised  the 
Queen  also,  and  that  the  remainder  of  the  travellers 
consisted  of  the  royal  family  and  their  suite,  mounted 
his  horse,  reached  Varennes  by  cross  roads  before  the 
royal  fugitives,  and  gave  the  alarm. 

The  Queen  began  to  feel  all  the  agonies  of  terror; 
they  were  augmented  by  the  voice  of  a  person  un- 
known, who,  passing  close  to  the  carriage  in  full 
gallop,  cried  out,  bending  towards  the  window  with- 
out slackening  his  speed,  "  You  are  recognised ! " 
They  arrived  with  beating  hearts  at  the  gates  of 
Varennes  without  meeting  one  of  the  horsemen  by 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  289 

whom  they  were  to  have  been  escorted  into  the  place. 
They  were  ignorant  where  to  find  their  relays,  and 
some  minutes  were  lost  in  waiting,  to  no  purpose. 
The  cabriolet  had  preceded  them,  and  the  two  ladies 
in  attendance  found  the  bridge  already  blocked  up 
with  old  carts  and  lumber.  The  town  guards  were 
all  under  arms.  The  King  at  last  entered  Varennes. 
M.  de  Goguelat  had  arrived  there  with  his  detach- 
ment. He  came  up  to  the  King  and  asked  him  if 
he  chose  to  effect  a  passage  by  force!  What  an  un- 
lucky question  to  put  to  Louis  XVI.,  who  from  the 
very  beginning  of  the  Revolution  had  shown  in  every 
crisis  the  fear  he  entertained  of  giving  the  least  order 
which  might  cause  an  effusion  of  blood !  "  Would  it 
be  a  brisk  action?  "  said  the  King.  "  It  is  impossible 
that  it  should  be  otherwise,  Sire,"  replied  the  aide-de- 
camp. Louis  XVI.  was  unwilling  to  expose  his  fam- 
ily. They  therefore  went  to  the  house  of  a  grocer, 
Mayor  of  Varennes.  The  King  began  to  speak,  and 
gave  a  summary  of  his  intentions  in  departing,  anal- 
ogous to  the  declaration  he  had  made  at  Paris.  He 
spoke  with  warmth  and  affability,  and  endeavoured 
to  demonstrate  to  the  people  around  him  that  he  had 
only  put  himself,  by  the  step  he  had  taken,  into  a  fit 
situation  to  treat  with  the  Assembly,  and  to  sanction 
with  freedom  the  constitution  which  he  would  main- 
tain, though  many  of  its  articles  were  incompatible 
with  the  dignity  of  the  throne,  and  the  force  by  which 
it  was  necessary  that  the  sovereign  should  be  sur- 
rounded. Nothing  could  be  more  affecting,  added 
the  Queen,  than  this  moment,  in  which  the  King  felt 
bound  to  communicate  to  the  very  humblest  class  of 
his  subjects  his  principles,  his  wishes  for  the  happi- 
ness of  his  people,  and  the  motives  which  had  deter- 
mined him  to  depart. 

Whilst  the  King  was  speaking  to  this  mayor,  whose 


290  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

name  was  Sauce,  the  Queen,  seated  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  shop,  among  parcels  of  soap  and  candles,  en- 
deavoured to  make  Madame  Sauce  understand  that  if 
she  would  prevail  upon  her  husband  to  make  use  of 
his  municipal  authority  to  cover  the  flight  of  the 
King  and  his  family,  she  would  have  the  glory  of 
having  contributed  to  restore  tranquillity  to  France. 
This  woman  was  moved;  she  could  not,  without 
streaming  eyes,  see  herself  thus  solicited  by  her 
Queen ;  but  she  could  not  be  got  to  say  anything 
more  than,  "  Bon  Dleu,  Madame,  it  would  be  the  de- 
struction of  M.  Sauce;  I  love  my  King,  but  I  love  my 
husband  too,  you  must  know,  and  he  would  be  answer- 
able, you  see."  Whilst  this  strange  scene  was  passing 
in  the  shop,  the  people,  hearing  that  the  King  was 
arrested,  kept  pouring  in  from  all  parts.  M.  de 
Goguelat,  making  a  last  effort,  demanded  of  the 
dragoons  whether  they  would  protect  the  departure 
of  the  King;  they  replied  only  by  murmurs,  dropping 
the  points  of  their  swords.  Some  person  unknown 
fired  a  pistol  at  M.  de  Goguelat;  he  was  slightly 
wounded  by  the  ball.  M.  Romeuf,  aide-de-camp  to  M. 
de  La  Fayette,  arrived  at  that  moment.  He  had  been 
chosen,  after  the  6th  of  October,  1789,  by  the  com- 
mander of  the  Parisian  guard  to  be  in  constant  at- 
tendance about  the  Queen.  She  reproached  him  bit- 
terly with  the  object  of  his  mission.  "  If  you  wish 
to  make  your  name  remarkable,  monsieur,"  said  the 
Queen  to  him,  "  you  have  chosen  strange  and  odious 
means,  which  will  produce  the  most  fatal  conse- 
quences." This  officer  wished  to  hasten  their  depar- 
ture. The  Queen,  still  cherishing  the  hope  of  seeing 
M.  de  Bouille  arrive  with  a  sufficient  force  to  extricate 
the  King  from  his  critical  situation,  prolonged  her 
stay  at  Varennes  by  every  means  in  her  power. 

The  Dauphin's  first  woman  pretended  to  be  taken 


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MARIE  ANTOINETTE  291 

ill  with  a  violent  colic,  and  threw  herself  upon  a  bed, 
in  the  hope  of  aiding  the  designs  of  her  superiors; 
she  went  and  implored  for  assistance.  The  Queen 
understood  her  perfectly  well,  and  refused  to  leave 
one  who  had  devoted  herself  to  follow  them  in  such 
a  state  of  suffering.  But  no  delay  in  departing  was 
allowed.  The  three  Body  Guards  (Valory,  Du  Mous- 
tier,  and  Maiden)  were  gagged  and  fastened  upon  the 
seat  of  the  carriage.  A  horde  of  National  Guards, 
animated  with  fury  and  the  barbarous  joy  with  which 
their  fatal  triumph  inspired  them,  surrounded  the  car- 
riage of  the  royal  family. 

The  three  commissioners  sent  by  the  Assembly  to 
meet  the  King,  MM.  de  Latour-Maubourg,  Barnave, 
and  Petion,  joined  them  in  the  environs  of  Epernay. 
The  two  last  mentioned  got  into  the  King's  carriage. 
The  Queen  astonished  me  by  the  favourable  opinion 
she  had  formed  of  Barnave.  When  I  quitted  Paris  a 
great  many  persons  spoke  of  him  only  with  horror. 
She  told  me  he  was  much  altered,  that  he  was  full  of 
talent  and  noble  feeling.  "  A  feeling  of  pride  which 
I  cannot  much  blame  in  a  young  man  belonging  to 
the  Tiers  Etat,"  she  said,  "  made  him  applaud  every- 
thing which  smoothed  the  road  to  rank  and  fame  for 
that  class  in  which  he  was  born.  And  if  we  get  the 
power  in  our  own  hands  again,  Barnave's  pardon  is  al- 
ready written  on  our  hearts."  The  Queen  added,  that 
she  had  not  the  same  feeling  towards  those  nobles  who 
had  joined  the  revolutionary  party,  who  had  always 
received  marks  of  favour,  often  to  the  injury  of  those 
beneath  them  in  rank,  and  who,  born  to  be  the  safe- 
guard of  the  monarchy,  could  never  be  pardoned  for 
having  deserted  it.  She  then  told  me  that  Barnave's 
conduct  upon  the  road  was  perfectly  correct,  while 
Petion's  republican  rudeness  was  disgusting;  that  the 
latter  ate  and  drank  in  the  King's  berlin  in  a  slovenly 

Vol.  3  Memoirs— 10 


2Q2  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

manner,  throwing  the  bones  of  the  fowls  out  through 
the  window  at  the  risk  of  sending  them  even  into  the 
King's  face;  lifting  up  his  glass,  when  Madame  Elisa- 
beth poured  him  out  wine,  to  show  her  that  there  was 
enough,  without  saying  a  word ;  that  this  offensive 
behaviour  must  have  been  intentional,  because  the  man 
was  not  without  education;  and  that  Barnave  was 
hurt  at  it.  On  being  pressed  by  the  Queen  to  take 
something,  "  Madame,"  replied  Barnave,  "  on  so 
solemn  an  occasion  the  deputies  of  the  National  As- 
sembly ought  to  occupy  your  Majesties  solely  about 
their  mission,  and  by  no  means  about  their  wants." 
In  short,  his  respectful  delicacy,  his  considerate  atten- 
tions, and  all  that  he  said,  gained  the  esteem  not  only 
of  the  Queen,  but  of  Madame  Elisabeth  also. 

The  King  began  to  talk  to  Petion  about  the  situa- 
tion of  France,  and  the  motives  of  his  conduct,  which 
were  founded  upon  the  necessity  of  giving  to  the  ex- 
ecutive power  a  strength  necessary  for  its  action,  for 
the  good  even  of  the  constitutional  act,  since  France 
could  not  be  a  republic.  "  Not  yet,  'tis  true,"  replied 
Petion,  "  because  the  French  are  not  ripe  enough  for 
that."  This  audacious  and  cruel  answer  silenced  the 
King,  who  said  no  more  until  his  arrival  at  Paris. 
Petion  held  the  little  Dauphin  upon  his  knees,  and 
amused  himself  with  curling  the  beautiful  light  hair 
of  the  interesting  child  round  his  fingers;  and,  as  he 
spoke  with  much  gesticulation,  he  pulled  his  locks 
hard  enough  to  make  the  Dauphin  cry  out.  "  Give 
me  my  son,"  said  the  Queen  to  him ;  "  he  is  accus- 
tomed to  tenderness  and  delicacy,  which  render  him 
little  fit  for  such  familiarity." 

The  Chevalier  de  Dampierre  was  killed  near  the 
King's  carriage  upon  leaving  Varennes.  A  poor  vil- 
lage cure,  some  leagues  from  the  place  where  the 
crime  was  committed,  was  imprudent  enough  to  draw 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  293 

near  to  speak  to  the  King;  the  cannibals  who  sur- 
rounded the  carriage  rushed  upon  him.  "  Tigers," 
exclaimed  Barnave,  "  have  you  ceased  to  be  French- 
men? Nation  of  brave  men,  are  you  become  a  set  of 
assassins  ?  "  These  words  alone  saved  the  cure,  who 
was  already  upon  the  ground,  from  certain  death. 
Barnave,  as  he  spoke  to  them,  threw  himself  almost 
out  of  the  coach  window,  and  Madame  Elisabeth, 
affected  by  this  noble  burst  of  feeling,  held  him  by 
the  skirt  of  his  coat.  The  Queen,  while  speaking  of 
this  event,  said  that  on  the  most  momentous  occasions 
whimsical  contrasts  always  struck  her,  and  that  even 
at  such  a  moment  the  pious  Elisabeth  holding  Barnave 
by  the  flap  of  his  coat  was  a  ludicrous  sight. 

The  deputy  was  astonished  in  another  way.  Ma- 
dame Elisabeth's  comments  upon  the  state  of  France, 
her  mild  and  persuasive  eloquence,  and  the  ease  and 
simplicity  with  which  she  talked  to  him,  yet  with- 
out sacrificing  her  dignity  in  the  slightest  degree, 
appeared  to  him  unique,  and  his  heart,  which  was 
doubtless  inclined  to  right  principles  though  he  had 
followed  the  wrong  path,  was  overcome  by  admira- 
tion. The  conduct  of  the  two  deputies  convinced  the 
Queen  of  the  total  separation  between  the  republican 
and  constitutional  parties.  At  the  inns  where  she 
alighted  she  had  some  private  conversation  with 
Barnave.  The  latter  said  a  great  deal  about  the 
errors  committed  by  the  royalists  during  the  Revolu- 
tion, adding  that  he  had  found  the  interest  of  the 
Court  so  feebly  and  so  badly  defended  that  he  had 
been  frequently  tempted  to  go  and  offer  it,  in  him- 
self, an  aspiring  champion,  who  knew  the  spirit  of 
the  age  and  nation.  The  Queen  asked  him  what 
was  the  weapon  he  would  have  recommended  her  to 
use. 

"  Popularity,  Madame." 


294  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

"  And  how  could  I  use  that,"  replied  her  Majesty, 
"of  which  I  have  been  deprived?" 

"  Ah !  Madame,  it  was  much  more  easy  for  you  to 
regain  it,  than  for  me  to  acquire  it." 

The  Queen  mainly  attributed  the  arrest  at  Varennes 
to  M.  de  Goguelat;  she  said  he  calculated  the  time 
that  would  be  spent  in  the  journey  erroneously.  He 
performed  that  from  Montmedy  to  Paris  before  taking 
the  King's  last  orders,  alone  in  a  post-chaise,  and  he 
founded  all  his  calculations  upon  the  time  he  spent 
thus.  The  trial  has  been  made  since,  and  it  was 
found  that  a  light  carriage  without  any  courier  was 
nearly  three  hours  less  in  running  the  distance  than 
a  heavy  carriage  preceded  by  a  courier. 

The  Queen  also  blamed  him  for  having  quitted  the 
high-road  at  Pont-de-Sommevelle,  where  the  carriage 
was  to  meet  the  forty  hussars  commanded  by  him. 
She  thought  that  he  ought  to  have  dispersed  the  very 
small  number  of  people  at  Varennes,  and  not  have 
asked  the  hussars  whether  they  were  for  the  King 
or  the  nation;  that,  particularly,  he  ought  to  have 
avoided  taking  the  King's  orders,  as  he  was  pre- 
viously aware  of  the  reply  M.  dTnisdal  had  received 
when  it  was  proposed  to  carry  off  the  King. 

After  all  that  the  Queen  had  said  to  me  respecting 
the  mistakes  made  by  M.  de  Goguelat,  I  thought  him 
of  course  disgraced.  What  was  my  surprise  when, 
having  been  set  at  liberty  after  the  amnesty  which 
followed  the  acceptance  of  the  constitution,  he  pre- 
sented himself  to  the  Queen,  and  was  received  with 
the  greatest  kindness!  She  said  he  had  done  what 
he  could,  and  that  his  zeal  ought  to  form  an  excuse 
for  all  the  rest. 

When  the  royal  family  was  brought  back  from 
Varennes  to  the  Tuileries,  the  Queen's  attendants 
found  the  greatest  difficulty  in  making  their  way  to 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  295 

her  apartments;  everything  had  been  arranged  so  that 
the  wardrobe  woman,  who  had  acted  as  spy,  should 
have  the  service;  and  she  was  to  be  assisted  in  it  only 
by  her  sister  and  her  sister's  daughter. 

M.  de  Gouvion,  M.  de  La  Fayette's  aide-de-camp, 
had  this  woman's  portrait  placed  at  the  foot  of  the 
staircase  which  led  to  the  Queen's  apartments,  in 
order  that  the  sentinel  should  not  permit  any  other 
women  to  make  their  way  in.  As  soon  as  the  Queen 
was  informed  of  this  contemptible  precaution,  she  told 
the  King  of  it,  who  sent  to  ascertain  the  fact.  His 
Majesty  then  called  for  M.  de  La  Fayette,  claimed 
freedom  in  his  household,  and  particularly  in  that  of 
the  Queen,  and  ordered  him  to  send  a  woman  in 
whom  no  one  but  himself  could  confide  out  of  the 
palace.     M.  de  La  Fayette  was  obliged  to  comply. 

On  the  day  when  the  return  of  the  royal  family 
was  expected,  there  were  no  carriages  in  motion  in 
the  streets  of  Paris.  Five  or  six  of  the  Queen's 
women,  after  being  refused  admittance  at  all  the  other 
gates,  went  with  one  of  my  sisters  to  that  of  the  Feuil- 
lans,  insisting  that  the  sentinel  should  admit  them. 
The  poissardes  attacked  them  for  their  boldness  in 
resisting  the  order  excluding  them.  One  of  them 
seized  my  sister  by  the  arm,  calling  her  the  slave  of 
the  Austrian.  "  Hear  me,"  said  my  sister  to  her, 
"  I  have  been  attached  to  the  Queen  ever  since  I  was 
fifteen  years  of  age;  she  gave  me  my  marriage  por- 
tion; I  served  her  when  she  was  powerful  and  happy. 
She  is  now  unfortunate.  Ought  I  to  abandon  her  ?  " 
"  She  is  right,"  cried  the  poissardes;  "  she  ought 
not  to  abandon  her  mistress;  let  us  make  an  entry 
for  them."  They  instantly  surrounded  the  sentinel, 
forced  the  passage,  and  introduced  the  Queen's 
women,  accompanying  them  to  the  terrace  of  the 
Feuillans.     One  of  these  furies,   whom  the  slightest 


296  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

impulse  would  have  driven  to  tear  my  sister  to  pieces, 
taking  her  under  her  protection,  gave  her  advice  by 
which  she  might  reach  the  palace  in  safety.  "  But  of 
all  things,  my  dear  friend,"  said  she  to  her,  "  pull  off 
that  green  ribbon  sash;  it  is  the  color  of  that  d'Artois, 
whom  we  will  never  forgive." 

The  measures  adopted  for  guarding  the  King  were 
rigorous  with  respect  to  the  entrance  into  the  palace, 
and  insulting  as  to  his  private  apartments.  The 
commandants  of  battalion,  stationed  in  the  salon 
called  the  grand  cabinet,  and  which  led  to  the  Queen's 
bedchamber,  were  ordered  to  keep  the  door  of  it  al- 
ways open,  in  order  that  they  might  have  their  eyes 
upon  the  royal  family.  The  King  shut  this  door  one 
day;  the  officer  of  the  guard  opened  it,  and  told  him 
such  were  his  orders,  and  that  he  would  always  open 
it;  so  that  his  Majesty  in  shutting  it  gave  himself 
useless  trouble.  It  remained  open  even  during  the 
night,  when  the  Queen  was  in  bed;  and  the  officer 
placed  himself  in  an  armchair  between  the  two  doors, 
with  his  head  turned  towards  her  Majesty.  They 
only  obtained  permission  to  have  the  inner  door  shut 
when  the  Queen  was  rising.  The  Queen  had  the  bed 
of  her  first  femme  de  chambre  placed  very  near  her 
own;  this  bed,  which  ran  on  casters,  and  was  fur- 
nished with  curtains,  hid  her  from  the  officer's  sight. 

Madame  de  Jar j  aye,  my  companion,  who  continued 
her  functions  during  the  whole  period  of  my  absence, 
told  me  that  one  night  the  commandant  of  battalion, 
who  slept  between  the  two  doors,  seeing  that  she  was 
sleeping  soundly,  and  that  the  Queen  was  awake, 
quitted  his  post  and  went  close  to  her  Majesty,  to 
advise  her  as  to  the  line  of  conduct  she  should  pur- 
sue. Although  she  had  the  kindness  to  desire  him 
to  speak  lower  in  order  that  he  might  not  disturb 
Madame    de   Jarjaye's    rest,    the    latter   awoke,    and 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  297 

nearly  died  with  fright  at  seeing  a  man  in  the  uni- 
form of  the  Parisian  guard  so  near  the  Queen's  bed. 
Her  Majesty  comforted  her,  and  told  her  not  to  rise; 
that  the  person  she  saw  was  a  good  Frenchman,  who 
was  deceived  respecting  the  intentions  and  situation 
of  his  sovereign  and  herself,  but  whose  conversation 
showed  sincere  attachment  to  the  King. 

There  was  a  sentinel  in  the  corridor  which  runs 
behind  the  apartments  in  question,  where  there  is  a 
staircase,  which  was  at  that  time  an  inner  one,  and 
enabled  the  King  and  Queen  to  communicate  freely. 
This  post,  which  was  very  onerous,  because  it  was  to 
be  kept  four  and  twenty  hours,  was  often  claimed  by 
Saint  Prix,  an  actor  belonging  to  the  Theatre  Fran- 
cois. He  took  it  upon  himself  sometimes  to  contrive 
brief  interviews  between  the  King  and  Queen  in  this 
corridor.  He  left  them  at  a  distance,  and  gave  them 
warning  if  he  heard  the  slightest  noise.  M.  Collot, 
commandant  of  battalion  of  the  National  Guard,  who 
was  charged  with  the  military  duty  of  the  Queen's 
household,  in  like  manner  softened  down,  so  far  as 
he  could  with  prudence,  all  the  revolting  orders  he 
received;  for  instance,  one  to  follow  the  Queen  to  the 
very  door  of  her  wardrobe  was  never  executed.  An 
officer  of  the  Parisian  guard  dared  to  speak  insolently 
of  the  Queen  in  her  own  apartment.  M.  Collot 
wished  to  make  a  complaint  to  M.  de  La  Fayette 
against  him,  and  have  him  dismissed.  The  Queen 
opposed  it,  and  condescended  to  say.  a  few  words 
of  explanation  and  kindness  to  the  man;  he  instantly 
became  one  of  her  most  devoted  partisans. 

The  first  time  I  saw  her  Majesty  after  the  unfortu- 
nate catastrophe  of  the  Varennes  journey,  I  found  her 
getting  out  of  bed;  her  features  were  not  very  much 
altered;  but  after  the  first  kind  words  she  uttered 
to  me  she  took  off  her  cap  and  desired  me  to  observe 


293  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

the  effect  which  grief  had  produced  upon  her  hair. 
It  had  become,  in  one  single  night,  as  white  as  that 
of  a  woman  of  seventy.  Her  Majesty  showed  me  a 
ring  she  had  just  had  mounted  for  the  Princesse  de 
Lamballe;  it  contained  a  lock  of  her  whitened  hair, 
with  the  inscription,  "  Blanched  by  sorrow."  At  the 
period  of  the  acceptance  of  the  constitution  the  Prin- 
cess wished  to  return  to  France.  The  Queen,  who 
had  no  expectation  that  tranquillity  would  be  re- 
stored, opposed  this;  but  the  attachment  of  Madame 
de  Lamballe  to  the  royal  family  impelled  her  to  come 
and  seek  death. 

When  I  returned  to  Paris  most  of  the  hard  pre- 
cautions were  abandoned;  the  doors  were  not  kept 
open;  greater  respect  was  paid  to  the  sovereign;  it 
was  known  that  the  constitution  soon  to  be  completed 
would  be  accepted,  and  a  better  order  of  things  was 
hoped  for. 


CHAPTER  XX 

ON  my  arrival  at  Paris  on  the  25th  of  August  I 
found  the  state  of  feeling  there  much  more 
temperate  than  I  had  dared  to  hope.  The 
conversation  generally  ran  upon  the  acceptance  of  the 
constitution,  and  the  fetes  which  would  be  given  in 
consequence.  The  struggle  between  the  Jacobins  and 
the  constitutionals  on  the  17th  of  July,  1791,  never- 
theless had  thrown  the  Queen  into  great  terror  for 
some  moments;  and  the  firing  of  the  cannon  from 
the  Champ  de  Mars  upon  a  party  which  called  for 
a  trial  of  the  King,  and  the  leaders  of  which  were  in 
the  very  bosom  of  the  Assembly,  left  the  most  gloomy 
impressions  upon  her  mind. 

The  constitutionals,  the  Queen's  connection  with 
whom  was  not  slackened  by  the  intervention  of  the 
three  members  already  mentioned,  had  faithfully 
served  the  royal  family  during  their  detention. 

"  We  still  hold  the  wire  by  which  this  popular  mass 

is  moved,"  said  Barnave  to  M.  de  J one  day,  at 

the  same  time  showing  him  a  large  volume,  in  which 
the  names  of  all  those  who  were  influenced  with  the 
power  of  gold  alone  were  registered.  It  was  at  that 
time  proposed  to  hire  a  considerable  number  of  per- 
sons in  order  to  secure  loud  acclamations  when  the 
King  and  his  family  should  make  their  appearance  at 
the  play  upon  the  acceptance  of  the  constitution. 
That  day,  which  afforded  a  glimmering  hope  of  tran- 
quillity, was  the  14th  of  September;  the  fetes  were 
brilliant;  but  already  fresh  anxieties  forbade  the 
royal  family  to  encourage  much  hope. 

299 


300  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  Legislative  Assembly,  which  had  just  succeeded 
the  Constituent  Assembly  (October,  1791),  founded 
its  conduct  upon  the  wildest  republican  principles; 
created  from  the  midst  of  popular  assemblies,  it  was 
wholly  inspired  by  the  spirit  which  animated  them. 
The  constitution,  as  I  have  said,  was  presented  to  the 
King  on  the  3d  of  September,  1791.  The  ministers, 
with  the  exception  of  M.  de  Montmorin,  insisted  upon 
the  necessity  of  accepting  the  constitutional  act  in  its 
entirety.  The  Prince  de  Kaunitz  was  of  the  same 
opinion.  Malouet  wished  the  King  to  express  him- 
self candidly  respecting  any  errors  or  dangers  that 
he  might  observe  in  the  constitution.  But  Duport  and 
Barnave,  alarmed  at  the  spirit  prevailing  in  the 
Jacobin  Club,  and  even  in  the  Assembly,  where  Robes- 
pierre had  already  denounced  them  as  traitors  to  the 
country,  and  dreading  still  greater  evils,  added  their 
opinions  to  those  of  the  majority  of  the  ministers  and 
M.  de  Kaunitz;  those  who  really  desired  that  the  con- 
stitution should  be  maintained  advised  that  it  should 
not  be  accepted  thus  literally.  The  King  seemed  in- 
clined to  this  advice;  and  this  is  one  of  the  strongest 
proofs  of  his  sincerity. 

Alexandre  Lameth,  Duport,  and  Barnave,  still  re- 
lying on  the  resources  of  their  party,  hoped  to  have 
credit  for  directing  the  King  through  the  influence 
they  believed  they  had  acquired  over  the  mind  of  the 
Queen.  They  also  consulted  people  of  acknowledged 
talent,  but  belonging  to  no  council  nor  to  any  assembly. 
Among  these  was  M.  Dubucq,  formerly  intendant  of 
the  marine  and  of  the  colonies.  He  answered  laconi- 
cally in  one  phrase :  "  Prevent  disorder  from  organis- 
ing itself." 

The  letter  written  by  the  King  to  the  Assembly, 
claiming  to  accept  the  constitution  in  the  very  place 
where  it  had  been  created,  and  where  he  announced 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  301 

he  would  be  on  the  14th  September  at  mid-day,  was 
received  with  transport,  and  the  reading  was  repeat- 
edly interrupted  by  plaudits.  The  sitting  terminated 
amidst  the  greatest  enthusiasm,  and  M.  de  La  Fayette 
obtained  the  release  of  all  those  who  were  detained  on 
account  of  the  King's  journey  [to  Varennes],  the 
abandonment  of  all  proceedings  relative  to  the  events 
of  the  Revolution,  and  the  discontinuance  of  the  use 
of  passports  and  of  temporary  restraints  upon  free 
travelling,  as  well  in  the  interior  as  without.  The 
whole  was  conceded  by  acclamation.  Sixty  members 
were,  deputed  to  go  to  the  King  and  express  to  him 
fully  the  satisfaction  his  Majesty's  letter  had  given. 
The  Keeper  of  the  Seals  quitted  the  chamber,  in  the 
midst  of  applause,  to  precede  the  deputation  to  the 
King. 

The  King  answered  the  speech  addressed  to  him, 
and  concluded  by  saying  to  the  Assembly  that  a  de- 
cree of  that  morning,  which  had  abolished  the  order 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  had  left  him  and  his  son  alone 
permission  to  be  decorated  with  it;  but  that  an  order 
having  no  value  in  his  eyes,  save  for  the  power  of 
conferring  it,  he  would  not  use  it. 

The  Queen,  her  son,  and  Madame,  were  at  the 
door  of  the  chamber  into  which  the  deputation  was 
admitted.  The  King  said  to  the  deputies,  "  You  see 
there  my  wife  and  children,  who  participate  in  my 
sentiments;"  and  the  Queen  herself  confirmed  the 
King's  assurance.  These  apparent  marks  of  confi- 
dence were  very  inconsistent  with  the  agitated  state 
of  her  mind.  "  These  people  want  no  sovereigns," 
said  she.  "  We  shall  fall  before  their  treacherous 
though  well-planned  tactics;  they  are  demolishing  the 
monarchy  stone  by  stone." 

Next  day  the  particulars  of  the  reception  of  the 
deputies  by  the  King  were  reported  to  the  Assembly, 


302  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  excited  warm  approbation.  But  the  President 
having  put  the  question  whether  the  Assembly  ought 
not  to  remain  seated  while  the  King  took  the  oath — 
"  Certainly,"  was  repeated  by  many  voices;  "  and  the 
King,  standing,  uncovered"  M.  Malouet  observed 
that  there  was  no  occasion  on  which  the  nation,  as- 
sembled in  the  presence  of  the  King,  did  not  acknowl- 
edge him  as  its  head;  that  the  omission  to  treat  the 
head  of  the  State  with  the  respect  due  to  him  would 
be  an  offence  to  the  nation,  as  well  as  to  the  monarch. 
He  moved  that  the  King  should  take  the  oath  stand- 
ing, and  that  the  Assembly  should  also  stand  while  he 
was  doing  so.  M.  Malouet' s  observations  would  have 
carried  the  decree,  but  a  deputy  from  Brittany  ex- 
claimed, with  a  shrill  voice,  that  he  had  an  amend- 
ment to  propose  which  would  render  all  unanimous. 
"  Let  us  decree,"  said  he,  "  that  M.  Malouet,  and  who- 
ever else  shall  so  please,  may  have  leave  to  receive 
the  King  upon  their  knees;  but  let  us  stick  to  the 
decree." 

The  King  repaired  to  the  chamber  at  mid-day.  His 
speech  was  followed  by  plaudits  which  lasted  several 
minutes.  After  the  signing  of  the  constitutional  act 
all  sat  down.  The  President  rose  to  deliver  his 
speech;  but  after  he  had  begun,  perceiving  that  the 
King  did  not  rise  to  hear  him,  he  sat  down  again. 
His  speech  made  a  powerful  impression;  the  sentence 
with  which  it  concluded  excited  fresh  acclamations, 
cries  of  "  Bravo !  "  and  "  Vive  le  Roi!  "  "  Sire,"  said 
he,  "  how  important  in  our  eyes,  and  how  dear  to  our 
hearts — how  sublime  a  feature  in  our  history — must 
be  the  epoch  of  that  regeneration  which  gives  citizens 
to  France,  and  a  country  to  Frenchmen, — to  you,  as 
a  king,  a  new  title  of  greatness  and  glory,  and,  as  a 
man,  a  source  of  new  enjoyment."  The  whole  Assem- 
bly accompanied  the  King  on  his  return,  amidst  the 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  303 

people's  cries  of  happiness,  military  music,  and  salvoes 
of  artillery. 

At  length  I  hoped  to  see  a  return  of  that  tranquil- 
lity which  had  so  long  vanished  from  the  countenances 
of  my  august  master  and  mistress.  Their  suite  left 
them  in  the  salon;  the  Queen  hastily  saluted  the  la- 
dies, and  returned  much  affected;  the  King  followed 
her,  and,  throwing  himself  into  an  armchair,  put  his 
handkerchief  to  his  eyes.  "  Ah !  Madame/'  cried  he, 
his  voice  choked  by  tears,  "  why  were  you  present  at 
this  sitting?  to  witness — "  these  words  were  inter- 
rupted by  sobs.  The  Queen  threw  herself  upon  her 
knees  before  him,  and  pressed  him  in  her  arms.  I 
remained  with  them,  not  from  any  blamable  curiosity, 
but  from  a  stupefaction  which  rendered  me  incapable 
of  determining  what  I  ought  to  do.  The  Queen  said 
to  me,  "  Oh !  go,  go !  "  with  an  accent  which  expressed, 
"  Do  not  remain  to  see  the  dejection  and  despair  of 
your  sovereign!"  I  withdrew,  struck  with  the  con- 
trast between  the  shouts  of  joy  without  the  palace 
and  the  profound  grief  which  oppressed  the  sover- 
eigns within.  Half  an  hour  afterwards  the  Queen 
sent  for  me.  She  desired  to  see  M.  de  Goguelat,  to 
announce  to  him  his  departure  on  that  very  night  for 
Vienna.  The  renewed  attacks  upon  the  dignity  of 
the  throne  which  had  been  made  during  the  sitting; 
the  spirit  of  an  Assembly  worse  than  the  former;  the 
monarch  put  upon  a  level  with  the  President,  without 
any  deference  to  the  throne, — all  this. proclaimed  but 
too  loudly  that  the  sovereignty  itself  was  aimed  at. 
The  Queen  no  longer  saw  any  ground  for  hope  from 
the  Provinces.  The  King  wrote  to  the  Emperor;  she 
told  me  that  she  would  herself,  at  midnight,  bring  the 
letter  which  M.  de  Goguelat  was  to  bear  to  the  Em- 
peror, to  my  room. 

During  all  the  remainder  of  the  day  the  Chateau 


304  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  the  Tuileries  were  crowded;  the  illuminations 
were  magnificent.  The  King  and  Queen  were  re- 
quested to  take  an  airing  in  their  carriage  in  the 
Champs-Elysees,  escorted  by  the  aides-de-camp,  and 
leaders  of  the  Parisian  army,  the  Constitutional  Guard 
not  being  at  the  time  organised.  Many  shouts  of 
"Vive  le  Roi!"  were  heard;  but  as  often  as  they 
ceased,  one  of  the  mob,  who  never  quitted  the  door 
of  the  King's  carriage  for  a  single  instant,  exclaimed 
with  a  stentorian  voice,  "No,  don't  believe  them! 
Vive  la  Nation! "  This  ill-omened  cry  struck  terror 
into  the  Queen. 

A  few  days  afterwards  M.  de  Montmorin  sent  to 
say  he  wanted  to  speak  to  me ;  that  he  would  come  to 
me,  if  he  were  not  apprehensive  his  doing  so  would 
attract  observation;  and  that  he  thought  it  would  ap- 
pear less  conspicuous  if  he  should  see  me  in  the 
Queen's  great  closet  at  a  time  which  he  specified,  and 
when  nobody  would  be  there.  I  went.  After  having 
made  some  polite  observations  upon  the  services  I  had 
already  performed,  and  those  I  might  yet  perform,  for 
my  master  and  mistress,  he  spoke  to  me  of  the  King's 
imminent  danger,  of  the  plots  which  were  hatching, 
and  of  the  lamentable  composition  of  the  Legislative 
Assembly;  and  he  particularly  dwelt  upon  the  neces- 
sity of  appearing,  by  prudent  remarks,  determined  as 
much  as  possible  to  abide  by  the  act  the  King  had  just 
recognised.  I  told  him  that  could  not  be  done  with- 
out committing  ourselves  in  the  eyes  of  the  royalist 
party,  with  which  moderation  was  a  crime;  that  it 
was  painful  to  hear  ourselves  taxed  with  being  consti- 
tutionalists, at  the  same  time  that  it  was  our  opinion 
that  the  only  constitution  which  was  consistent  with 
the  King's  honour,  and  the  happiness  and  tranquillity 
of  his  people,  was  the  absolute  power  of  the  sover- 
eign; that  this  was  my  creed,  and  it  would  pain  me 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  305 

to  give  any  room  for  suspicion  that  I  was  wavering 
in  it. 

"  Could  you  ever  believe,"  said  he,  "  that  I  should 
desire  any  other  order  of  things  ?  Have  you  any  doubt 
of  my  attachment  to  the  King's  person,  and  the  main- 
tenance of  his  rights?  " 

"I  know  it,  Count,"  replied  I;  "but  you  are  not 
ignorant  that  you  lie  under  the  imputation  of  having 
adopted  revolutionary  ideas." 

"  Well,  madame,  have  resolution  enough  to  dissem- 
ble and  to  conceal  your  real  sentiments;  dissimulation 
was  never  more  necessary.  Endeavours  are  being 
made  to  paralyse  the  evil  intentions  of  the  factious  as 
much  as  possible ;  but  we  must  not  be  counteracted  here 
by  certain  dangerous  expressions  which  are  circulated 
in  Paris  as  coming  from  the  King  and  Queen." 

I  told  him  that  I  had  been  already  struck  with 
apprehension  of  the  evil  which  might  be  done  by  the 
intemperate  observations  of  persons  who  had  no  power 
to  act;  and  that  I  had  felt  ill  consequences  from  hav- 
ing repeatedly  enjoined  silence  on  those  in  the  Queen's 
service. 

"I  know  that,"  said  the  Count;  "the  Queen  in- 
formed me  of  it,  and  that  determined  me  to  come  and 
request  you  to  increase  and  keep  alive,  as  much  as  you 
can,  that  spirit  of  discretion  which  is  so  necessary." 

While  the  household  of  the  King  and  Queen  were  a 
prey  to  all  these  fears,  the  festivities  in  celebration  of 
the  acceptance  of  the  constitution  proceeded.  Their 
Majesties  went  to  the  Opera;  the  audience  consisted 
entirely  of  persons  who  sided  with  the  King,  and  on 
that  day  the  happiness  of  seeing  him  for  a  short  time 
surrounded  by  faithful  subjects  might  be  enjoyed. 
The  acclamations  were  then  sincere. 

"  La  Coquette  Corrigee  "  had  been  selected  for  rep- 
resentation at  the  Theatre  Frangais  solely  because  it 


3o6  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

was  the  piece  in  which  Mademoiselle  Contat  shone 
most.  Yet  the  notions  propagated  by  the  Queen's 
enemies  coinciding  in  my  mind  with  the  name  of 
the  play,  I  thought  the  choice  very  ill-judged.  I  was 
at  a  loss,  however,  how  to  tell  her  Majesty  so;  but 
sincere  attachment  gives  courage.  I  explained  my- 
self; she  was  obliged  to  me,  and  desired  that  another 
play  might  be  performed.  They  accordingly  selected 
"  La  Gouvernante,"  almost  equally  unfortunate  in 
title. 

The  Queen,  Madame  the  King's  daughter,  and  Ma- 
dame Elisabeth  were  all  well  received  on  this  occa- 
sion.    It  is  true  that  the  opinions  and  feelings  of  the 
spectators  in  the  boxes  could  not  be  otherwise  than 
favourable,  and  great  pains  had  been  taken,  previously 
to  these  two  performances,  to  fill  the  pit  with  proper 
persons.     But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Jacobins  took 
the   same   precautions   on   their   side   at   the   Theatre 
Italien,  and  the  tumult  was  excessive  there.     The  play 
was  Gretry's  "  Les  Evenements  Imprevus."     Unfor- 
tunately, Madame  Dugazon  thought  proper  to  bow  to 
the  Queen  as  she  sang  the  words,  "  Ah,  how  I  love 
my  mistress !  "  in  a  duet.     About  twenty  voices  im- 
mediately exclaimed  from  the  pit,  "  No  mistress !  no 
master!  liberty!  "    A  few  replied  from  the  boxes  and 
slips,  "Vive  le  Roi!  vive  la  Reine!"     Those  in  the 
pit  answered,  "No  master!  no  Queen!"     The  quar- 
rel increased;  the  pit  formed  into  parties;  they  began 
fighting,  and  the  Jacobins  were  beaten;  tufts  of  their 
black  hair  flew  about  the  theatre.     A  military  guard 
arrived.     The  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  hearing  of  what 
was  going  on  at  the  Theatre  Italien,  flocked  together, 
and  began  to  talk  of  marching  towards  the  scene  of 
action.    The  Queen  preserved  the  calmest  demeanour; 
the  commandants  of  the  guard  surrounded  and  en- 
couraged  her;    they   conducted   themselves   promptly 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  307 

and  discreetly.  No  accident  happened.  The  Queen 
was  highly  applauded  as  she  quitted  the  theatre;  it  was 
the  last  time  she  was  ever  in  one! 

While  couriers  were  bearing  confidential  letters 
from  the  King  to  the  Princes,  his  brothers,  and  to 
the  foreign  sovereigns,  the  Assembly  invited  him  to 
write  to  the  Princes  in  order  to  induce  them  to  return 
to  France.  The  King  desired  the  Abbe  de  Montes- 
quiou  to  write  the  letter  he  was  to  send;  this  letter, 
which  was  admirably  composed  in  a  simple  and  affect- 
ing style,  suited  to  the  character  of  Louis  XVI.,  and 
filled  with  very  powerful  arguments  in  favour  of  the 
advantages  to  be  derived  from  adopting  the  principles 
of  the  constitution,  was  confided  to  me  by  the  King, 
who  desired  me  to  make  him  a  copy  of  it. 

At  this  period  M.  M ,  one  of  the  intendants  of 

Monsieur's  household,  obtained  a  passport  from  the 
Assembly  to  join  that  Prince  on  business  relative  to 
his  domestic  concerns.  The  Queen  selected  him  to  be 
the  bearer  of  this  letter.  She  determined  to  give  it 
to  him  herself,  and  to  inform  him  of  its  object.  I 
was  astonished  at  her  choice  of  this  courier.  The 
Queen  assured  me  he  was  exactly  the  man  for  her 
purpose,  that  she  relied  even  upon  his  indiscretion, 
and  that  it  was  merely  necessary  that  the  letter  from 
the  King  to  his  brothers  should  be  known  to  exist. 
The  Princes  were  doubtless  informed  beforehand  on 
the  subject  by  the  private  correspondence.  Monsieur 
nevertheless  manifested  some  degree  of-  surprise,  and 
the  messenger  returned  more  grieved  than  pleased  at 
this  mark  of  confidence,  which  nearly  cost  him  his  life 
during  the  Reign  of  Terror. 

Among  the  causes  of  uneasiness  to  the  Queen 
there  was  one  which  was  but  too  well  founded — 
the  thoughtlessness  of  the  French  whom  she  sent  to 
foreign  Courts.     She  used  to  say  that  they  had  no 


308  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

sooner  passed  the  frontiers  than  they  disclosed  the 
most  secret  matters  relative  to  the  King's  private  sen- 
timents, and  that  the  leaders  of  the  Revolution  were 
informed  of  them  through  their  agents,  many  of  whom 
were  Frenchmen  who  passed  themselves  off  as  emi- 
grants in  the  cause  of  their  King. 

After  the  acceptance  of  the  constitution,  the  forma- 
tion of  the  King's  household,  as  well  military  as  civil, 
formed  a  subject  of  attention.  The  Due  de  Brissac 
had  the  command  of  the  Constitutional  Guard,  which 
was  composed  of  officers  and  men  selected  from  the 
regiments,  and  of  several  officers  drawn  from  the 
National  Guard  of  Paris.  The  King  was  satisfied  with 
the  feelings  and  conduct  of  this  band,  which,  as  is 
well  known,  existed  but  a  very  short  time. 

The  new  constitution  abolished  what  were  called 
honours,  and  the  prerogatives  belonging  to  them. 
The  Duchesse  de  Duras  resigned  her  place  of  lady 
of  the  bedchamber,  not  choosing  to  lose  her  right  to 
the  tabouret  at  Court.  This  step  hurt  the  Queen, 
who  saw  herself  forsaken  through  the  loss  of  a  petty 
privilege  at  a  time  when  her  own  rights  and  even  life 
were  so  hotly  attacked.  Many  ladies  of  rank  left  the 
Court  for  the  same  reason.  However,  the  King  and 
Queen  did  not  dare  to  form  the  civil  part  of  their 
household,  lest  by  giving  the  new  names  of  the  posts 
they  should  acknowledge  the  abolition  of  the  old  ones, 
and  also  lest  they  should  admit  into  the  highest  posi- 
tions persons  not  calculated  to  fill  them  well.  Some 
time  was  spent  in  discussing  the  question,  whether 
the  household  should  be  formed  without  chevaliers 
and  without  ladies  of  honour.  The  Queen's  consti- 
tutional advisers  were  of  opinion  that  the  Assembly, 
having  decreed  a  civil  list  adequate  to  uphold  the 
splendour  of  the  throne,  would  be  dissatisfied  at  see- 
ing the  King  adopting  only  a  military  household,  and 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  309 

not  forming  his  civil  household  upon  the  new  consti- 
tutional plan.  "  How  is  it,  Madame,"  wrote  Barnave 
to  the  Queen,  "  that  you  will  persist  in  giving  these 
people  even  the  smallest  doubt  as  to  your  sentiments? 
When  they  decree  you  a  civil  and  a  military  house- 
hold, you,  like  young  Achilles  among  the  daughters 
of  Lycomedes,  eagerly  seize  the  sword  and  scorn  the 
mere  ornaments."  The  Queen  persisted  in  her  deter- 
mination to  have  no  civil  household.  "  If,"  said  she, 
"  this  constitutional  household  be  formed,  not  a  single 
person  of  rank  will  remain  with  us,  and  upon  a  change 
of  affairs  we  should  be  obliged  to  discharge  the  per- 
sons received  into  their  place." 

"  Perhaps,"  added  she,  "  perhaps  I  might  find  one 
day  that  I  had  saved  the  nobility,  if  I  now  had  reso- 
lution enough  to  afflict  them  for  a  time;  I  have  it  not. 
When  any  measure  which  injures  them  is  wrested 
from  us  they  sulk  with  me;  nobody  comes  to  my  card 
party;  the  King  goes  unattended  to  bed.  No  allow- 
ance is  made  for  political  necessity;  we  are  punished 
for  our  very  misfortunes." 

The  Queen  wrote  almost  all  day,  and  spent  part  of 
the  night  in  reading :  her  courage  supported  her  physi- 
cal strength;  her  disposition  was  not  at  all  soured  by 
misfortunes,  and  she  was  never  seen  in  an  ill-humour 
for  a  moment.  She  was,  however,  held  up  to  the 
people  as  a  woman  absolutely  furious  and  mad  when- 
ever the  rights  of  the  Crown  were  in  any  way 
attacked. 

I  was  with  her  one  day  at  one  of  her  windows.  We 
saw  a  man  plainly  dressed,  like  an  ecclesiastic,  sur- 
rounded by  an  immense  crowd.  The  Queen  imagined 
it  was  some  abbe  whom  they  were  about  to  throw  into 
the  basin  of  the  Tuileries;  she  hastily  opened  her 
window  and  sent  a  valet  de  chambre  to  know  what 
was   going   forward   in   the   garden.      It   was   Abbe 


310  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

Gregoire,  whom  the  men  and  women  of  the  tribunes 
were  bringing  back  in  triumph,  on  account  of  a  mo- 
tion he  had  just  made  in  the  National  Assembly 
against  the  royal  authority.  On  the  following  day 
the  democratic  journalists  described  the  Queen  as 
witnessing  this  triumph,  and  showing,  by  expressive 
gestures  at  her  window,  how  highly  she  was  exas- 
perated by  the  honours  conferred  upon  the  patriot. 

The  correspondence  between  the  Queen  and  the 
foreign  powers  was  carried  on  in  cipher.  That  to 
which  she  gave  the  preference  can  never  be  detected; 
but  the  greatest  patience  is  requisite  for  its  use. 
Each  correspondent  must  have  a  copy  of  the  same 
edition  of  some  work.  She  selected  "  Paul  and 
Virginia."  The  page  and  line  in  which  the  letters 
required,  and  occasionally  a  monosyllable,  are  to  be 
found  are  pointed  out  in  ciphers  agreed  upon.  I 
assisted  her  in  finding  the  letters,  and  frequently 
I  made  an  exact  copy  for  her  of  all  that  she  had 
ciphered,  without  knowing  a  single  word  of  its 
meaning. 

There  were  always  several  secret  committees  in 
Paris  occupied  in  collecting  information  for  the  King 
respecting  the  measures  of  the  factions,  and  in  influ- 
encing some  of  the  committees  of  the  Assembly.  M. 
Bertrand  de  Molleville  was  in  close  correspondence 
with  the  Queen.  The  King  employed  M.  Talon  and 
others;  much  money  was  expended  through  the  latter 
channel  for  the  secret  measures.  The  Queen  had  no 
confidence  in  them.  M.  de  Laporte,  minister  of  the 
civil  list  and  of  the  household,  also  attempted  to  give 
a  bias  to  public  opinion  by  means  of  hireling  publica- 
tions; but  these  papers  influenced  none  but  the  royal- 
ist party,  which  did  not  need  influencing.  M.  de 
Laporte  had  a  private  police  which  gave  him  some 
useful  information. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  311 

I  determined  to  sacrifice  myself  to  my  duty,  but  by 
no  means  to  any  intrigue,  and  I  thought  that,  circum- 
stanced as  I  was,  I  ought  to  confine  myself  to  obeying 
the  Queen's  orders.  I  frequently  sent  off  couriers  to 
foreign  countries,  and  they  were  never  discovered,  so 
many  precautions  did  I  take.  I  am  indebted  for  the 
preservation  of  my  own  existence  to  the  care  I  took 
never  to  admit  any  deputy  to  my  abode,  and  to  refuse 
all  interviews  which  even  people  of  the  highest  im- 
portance often  requested  of  me;  but  this  line  of  con- 
duct exposed  me  to  every  species  of  ill-will,  and  on  the 
same  day  I  saw  myself  denounced  by  Prud'homme, 
in  his  Gazette  Revohitionnaire,  as  capable  of  making 
an  aristocrat  of  the  mother  of  the  Gracchi,  if  a  person 
so  dangerous  as  myself  could  have  got  into  her  house- 
hold; and  by  Gauthier's  Gazette  Royaliste,  as  a  mon- 
archist, a  constitutionalist,  more  dangerous  to  the 
Queen's  interests  than  a  Jacobin. 

At  this  period  an  event  with  which  I  had  nothing 
to  do  placed  me  in  a  still  more  critical  situation.  My 
brother,  M.  Genet,  began  his  diplomatic  career  suc- 
cessfully. At  eighteen  he  was  attached  to  the  em- 
bassy to  Vienna;  at  twenty  he  was  appointed  chief 
secretary  of  Legation  in  England,  on  occasion  of  the 
peace  of  1783.  A  memorial  which  he  presented  to 
M.  de  Vergennes  upon  the  dangers  of  the  treaty 
of  commerce  then  entered  into  with  England  gave 
offence  to  M.  de  Calonne,  a  patron  of  that  treaty, 
and  particularly  to  M.  Gerard  de  Rayneval,  chief 
clerk  for  foreign  affairs.  So  long  as  M.  de  Vergennes 
lived,  having  upon  my  father's  death  declared  him- 
self the  protector  of  my  brother,  he  supported  him 
against  the  enemies  his  views  had  created.  But  on 
his  death  M.  de  Montmorin,  being  much  in  need  of 
the  long  experience  in  business  which  he  found  in 
M.  de  Rayneval,  was  guided  solely  by  the  latter.    The 


312  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

office  of  which  my  brother  was  the  head  was  sup- 
pressed. He  then  went  to  St.  Petersburg,  strongly- 
recommended  to  the  Comte  de  Segur,  minister  from 
France  to  that  Court,  who  appointed  him  secretary  of 
Legation.  Some  time  afterwards  the  Comte  de  Segur 
left  him  at  St.  Petersburg,  charged  with  the  affairs  of 
France.  After  his  return  from  Russia,  M.  Genet  was 
appointed  ambassador  to  the  United  States  by  the 
party  called  Girondists,  the  deputies  who  headed  it 
being  from  the  department  of  the  Gironde.  He  was 
recalled  by  the  Robespierre  party,  which  overthrew 
the  former  faction,  on  the  31st  of  May,  1793,  and 
condemned  to  appear  before  the  Convention.  Vice- 
President  Clinton,  at  that  time  Governor  of  New 
York,  offered  him  an  asylum  in  his  house  and  the 
hand  of  his  daughter,  and  M.  Genet  established  him- 
self prosperously  in  America. 

When  my  brother  quitted  Versailles  he  was  much 
hurt  at  being  deprived  of  a  considerable  income  for 
having  penned  a  memorial  which  his  zeal  alone  had 
dictated,  and  the  importance  of  which  was  afterwards 
but  too  well  understood.  I  perceived  from  his  cor- 
respondence that  he  inclined  to  some  of  the  new  no- 
tions. He  told  me  it  was  right  he  should  no  longer 
conceal  from  me  that  he  sided  with  the  constitutional 
party;  that  the  King  had  in  fact  commanded  it,  hav- 
ing himself  accepted  the  constitution;  that  he  would 
proceed  firmly  in  that  course,  because  in  this  case 
disingenuousness  would  be  fatal,  and  that  he  took  that 
side  of  the  question  because  he  had  had  it  proved  to 
him  that  the  foreign  powers  would  not  serve  the 
King's  cause  without  advancing  pretensions  prompted 
by  long-standing  interests,  which  always  would  in- 
fluence their  councils;  that  he  saw  no  salvation  for 
the  King  and  Queen  but  from  within  France,  and 
that  he   would   serve   the   constitutional   King  as   he 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  313 

served  him  before  the  Revolution.  And  lastly,  he 
requested  me  to  impart  to  the  Queen  the  real  senti- 
ments of  one  of  his  Majesty's  agents  at  a  foreign 
Court.  I  immediately  went  to  the  Queen  and  gave 
her  my  brother's  letter;  she  read  it  attentively,  and 
said,  "  This  is  the  letter  of  a  young  man  led  astray 
by  discontent  and  ambition;  I  know  you  do  not  think 
as  he  does;  do  not  fear  that  you  will  lose  the  confi- 
dence of  the  King  and  myself."  I  offered  to  discon- 
tinue all  correspondence  with  my  brother;  she  opposed 
that,  saying  it  would  be  dangerous.  I  then  entreated 
she  would  permit  me  in  future  to  show  her  my  own 
and  my  brother's  letters,  to  which  she  consented.  I 
wrote  warmly  to  my  brother  against  the  course  he  had 
adopted.  I  sent  my  letters  by  sure  channels;  he 
answered  me  by  the  post,  and  no  longer  touched  upon 
anything  but  family  affairs.  Once  only  he  informed 
me  that  if  I  should  write  to  him  respecting  the  af- 
fairs of  the  day  he  would  give  me  no  answer. 
"  Serve  your  august  mistress  with  the  unbounded  de- 
votion which  is  due  from  you,"  said  he,  "  and  let  us 
each  do  our  duty.  I  will  only  observe  to  you  that  at 
Paris  the  fogs  of  the  Seine  often  prevent  people  from 
seeing  that  immense  capital,  even  from  the  Pavilion 
of  Flora,  and  I  see  it  more  clearly  from  St.  Peters- 
burg." The  Queen  said,  as  she  read  this  letter, 
"  Perhaps  he  speaks  but  too  truly;  who  can  decide 
upon  so  disastrous  a  position  as  ours  has  become?  " 

The  day  on  which  I  gave  the  Queen  my  brother's 
first  letter  to  read  she  had  several  audiences  to  give 
to  ladies  and  other  persons  belonging  to  the  Court, 
who  came  on  purpose  to  inform  her  that  my  brother 
was  an  avowed  constitutionalist  and  revolutionist.  The 
Queen  replied,  "  I  know  it;  Madame  Campan  has  told 
me  so."  Persons  jealous  of  my  situation  having  sub- 
jected me  to  mortifications,  and  these  unpleasant  cir- 


314  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

cumstances  recurring  daily,  I  requested  the  Queen's 
permission  to  withdraw  from  Court.  She  exclaimed 
against  the  very  idea,  represented  it  to  me  as  ex- 
tremely dangerous  for  my  own  reputation,  and  had 
the  kindness  to  add  that,  for  my  sake  as  well  as  for 
her  own,  she  never  would  consent  to  it.  After  this 
conversation  I  retired  to  my  apartment.  A  few  min- 
utes later  a  footman  brought  me  this  note  from  the 
Queen :  "  I  have  never  ceased  to  give  you  and  yours 
proofs  of  my  attachment;  I  wish  to  tell  you  in  writ- 
ing that  I  have  full  faith  in  your  honour  and  fidelity, 
as  well  as  in  your  other  good  qualities;  and  that 
I  ever  rely  on  the  zeal  and  address  you  exert  to 
serve  me." 

At  the  moment  that  I  was  going  to  express  my 
gratitude  to  the  Queen  1  heard  a  tapping  at  the  door 
of  my  room,  which  opened  upon  the  Queen's  inner 
corridor.  I  opened  it;  it  was  the  King.  I  was  con- 
fused; he  perceived  it,  and  said  to  me,  kindly:  "I 
alarm  you,  Madame  Campan;  I  come,  however,  to 
comfort  you;  the  Queen  has  told  me  how  much  she 
is  hurt  at  the  injustice  of  several  persons  towards 
you.  But  how  is  it  that  you  complain  of  injustice 
and  calumny  when  you  see  that  we  are  victims  of 
them?  In  some  of  your  companions  it  is  jealousy; 
in  the  people  belonging  to  the  Court  it  is  anxiety. 
Our  situation  is  so  disastrous,  and  we  have  met  with 
so  much  ingratitude  and  treachery,  that  the  appre- 
hensions of  those  who  love  us  are  excusable !  I 
could  quiet  them  by  telling  them  all  the  secret  serv- 
ices you  perform  for  us  daily;  but  I  will  not  do  it. 
Out  of  good-will  to  you  they  would  repeat  all  I 
should  say,  and  you  would  be  lost  with  the  Assembly. 
It  is  much  better,  both  for  you  and  for  us,  that  you 
should  be  thought  a  constitutionalist.  It  has  been 
mentioned   to   me   a  hundred   times   already;    I   have 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  315 

never  contradicted  it;  but  I  come  to  give  you  my 
word  that  if  we  are  fortunate  enough  to  see  an  end 
of  all  this,  I  will,  at  the  Queen's  residence,  and  in 
the  presence  of  my  brothers,  relate  the  important 
services  you  have  rendered  us,  and  I  will  recompense 
you  and  your  son  for  them."  I  threw  myself  at  the 
King's  feet  and  kissed  his  hand.  He  raised  me  up, 
saying,  ''Come,  come,  do  not  grieve;  the  Queen,  who 
loves  you,  confides  in  you  as  I  do." 

Down  to  the  day  of  the  acceptance  it  was  impos- 
sible to  introduce  Barnave  into  the  interior  of  the 
palace;  but  when  the  Queen  was  free  from  the  inner 
guard  she  said  she  would  see  him.  The  very  great 
precautions  which  it  was  necessary  for  the  deputy  to 
take  in  order  to  conceal  his  connection  with  the  King 
and  Queen  compelled  them  to  spend  two  hours  wait- 
ing for  him  in  one  of  the  corridors  of  the  Tuileries, 
and  all  in  vain.  The  first  day  that  he  was  to  be 
admitted,  a  man  whom  Barnave  knew  to  be  dangerous 
having  met  him  in  the  courtyard  of  the  palace,  he 
determined  to  cross  it  without  stopping,  and  walked 
in  the  gardens  in  order  to  lull  suspicion.  I  was 
desired  to  wait  for  Barnave  at  a  little  door  belonging 
to  the  entresols  of  the  palace,  with  my  hand  upon  the 
open  lock.  I  was  in  that  position  for  an  hour.  The 
King  came  to  me  frequently,  and  always  to  speak 
to  me  of  the  uneasiness  which  a  servant  belonging 
to  the  Chateau,  who  was  a  patriot,  gave  him.  He 
came  again  to  ask  me  whether  I  had  hea'rd  the  door 
called  de  Decret  opened.  I  assured  him  nobody  had 
been  in  the  corridor,  and  he  became  easy.  He  was 
dreadfully  apprehensive  that  his  connection  with  Bar- 
nave would  be  discovered.  "  It  would,"  said  the  King, 
"  be  a  ground  for  grave  accusations,  and  the  unfortu- 
nate man  would  be  lost."  I  then  ventured  to  remind 
his  Majesty  that  as  Barnave  was  not  the  only  one 


316  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

in  the  secret  of  the  business  which  brought  him  in 
contact  with  their  Majesties,  one  of  his  colleagues 
might  be  induced  to  speak  of  the  association  with 
which  they  were  honoured,  and  that  in  letting  them 
know  by  my  presence  that  I  also  was  informed  of  it, 
a  risk  was  incurred  of  removing  from  those  gentle- 
men part  of  the  responsibility  of  the  secret.  Upon 
this  observation  the  King  quitted  me  hastily  and  re- 
turned a  moment  afterwards  with  the  Queen.  "  Give 
me  your  place,"  said  she;  "  I  will  wait  for  him  in  my 
turn.  You  have  convinced  the  King.  We  must  not 
increase  in  their  eyes  the  number  of  persons  informed 
of  their  communications  with  us." 

The  police  of  M.  de  Laporte,  intendant  of  the  civil 
list,  apprised  him,  as  early  as  the  latter  end  of  1791, 
that  a  man  belonging  to  the  King's  offices  who  had 
set  up  as  a  pastry-cook  at  the  Palais  Royal  was  about 
to  resume  the  duties  of  his  situation,  which  had  de- 
volved upon  him  again  on  the  death  of  one  who  held 
it  for  life;  that  he  was  so  furious  a  Jacobin  that  he 
had  dared  to  say  it  would  be  a  good  thing  for  France 
if  the  King's  days  were  shortened.  His  duty  was  con- 
fined to  making  the  pastry;  he  was  closely  watched 
by  the  head  officers  of  the  kitchen,  who  were  devoted 
to  his  Majesty;  but  it  is  so  easy  to  introduce  a  subtle 
poison  into  made  dishes  that  it  was  determined  the 
King  and  Queen  should  eat  only  plain  roast  meat  in 
future;  that  their  bread  should  be  brought  to  them 
by  M.  Thierry  de  Ville-d'Avray,  intendant  of  the 
smaller  apartments,  and  that  he  should  likewise  take 
upon  himself  to  supply  the  wine.  The  King  was  fond 
of  pastry;  I  was  directed  to  order  some,  as  if  for 
myself,  sometimes  of  one  pastry-cook,  and  sometimes 
of  another.  The  pounded  sugar,  too,  was  kept  in  my 
room.  The  King,  the  Queen,  and  Madame  Elisabeth 
ate  together,  and  nobody  remained  to  wait  on  them. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  317 

Each  had  a  dumb  waiter  and  a  little  bell  to  call  the 
servants  when  they  were  wanted.  M.  Thierry  used 
himself  to  bring  me  their  Majesties'  bread  and  wine, 
and  I  locked  them  up  in  a  private  cupboard  in  the 
King's  closet  on  the  ground  floor.  As  soon  as  the 
King  sat  down  to  table  I  took  in  the  pastry  and 
bread.  All  was  hidden  under  the  table  lest  it  might 
be  necessary  to  have  the  servants  in.  The  King 
thought  it  dangerous  as  well  as  distressing  to  show 
any  apprehension  of  attempts  against  his  person,  or 
any  mistrust  of  his  officers  of  the  kitchen.  As  he 
never  drank  a  whole  bottle  of  wine  at  his  meals  (the 
Princesses  drank  nothing  but  water),  he  filled  up  that 
out  of  which  he  had  drunk  about  half  from  the  bottle 
served  up  by  the  officers  of  his  butlery.  I  took  it 
away  after  dinner.  Although  he  never  ate  any  other 
pastry  than  that  which  I  brought,  he  took  care  in  the 
same  manner  that  it  should  seem  that  he  had  eaten 
of  that  served  at  table.  The  lady  who  succeeded  me 
found  this  duty  all  regulated,  and  she  executed  it  in 
the  same  manner;  the  public  never  was  in  possession 
of  these  particulars,  nor  of  the  apprehensions  which 
gave  rise  to  them.  At  the  end  of  three  or  four 
months  the  police  of  M.  de  Laporte  gave  notice  that 
nothing  more  was  to  be  dreaded  from  that  sort  of 
plot  against  the  King's  life;  that  the  plan  was  en- 
tirely changed;  and  that  all  the  blows  now  to  be 
struck  would  be  directed  as  much  against  the  throne 
as  against  the  person  of  the  sovereign.     • 

There  are  others  besides  myself  who  know  that  at 
this  time  one  of  the  things  about  which  the  Queen 
most  desired  to  be  satisfied  was  the  opinion  of  the 
famous  Pitt.  She  would  sometimes  say  to  me,  "  I 
never  pronounce  the  name  of  Pitt  without  feeling  a 
chill  like  that  of  death."  (I  repeat  here  her  very 
expressions.)      "That  man  is  the  mortal  enemy  of 


318  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

France;  and  he  takes  a  dreadful  revenge  for  the 
impolitic  support  given  by  the  Cabinet  of  Versailles 
to  the  American  insurgents.  He  wishes  by  our 
destruction  to  guarantee  the  maritime  power  of  his 
country  forever  against  the  efforts  made  by  the  King 
to  improve  his  marine  power  and  their  happy  results 
during  the  last  war.  He  knows  that  it  is  not  only 
the  King's  policy  but  his  private  inclination  to  be 
solicitous  about  his  fleets,  and  that  the  most  active 
step  he  has  taken  during  his  whole  reign  was  to  visit 
the  port  of  Cherbourg.  Pitt  had  served  the  cause  of 
the  French  Revolution  from  the  first  disturbances;  he 
will  perhaps  serve  it  until  its  annihilation.  I  will 
endeavour  to  learn  to  what  point  he  intends  to  lead 

us,  and  I  am  sending  M.  to  London  for  that 

purpose.  He  has  been  intimately  connected  with 
Pitt,  and  they  have  often  had  political  conversations 
respecting  the  French  Government.  I  will  get  him 
to  make  him  speak  out,  at  least  so  far  as  such  a  man 
can  speak  out." 

Some  time  afterwards  the  Queen  told  me  that  her 
secret  envoy  was  returned  from  London,  and  that  all 
he  had  been  able  to  wring  from  Pitt,  whom  he  found 
alarmingly  reserved,  was  that  he  would  not  suffer  the 
French  monarchy  to  perish;  that  to  suffer  the  revolu- 
tionary spirit  to  erect  an  organised  republic  in  France 
would  be  a  great  error,  affecting  the  tranquillity  of 
Europe.  "  Whenever,"  said  she,  "  Pitt  expressed 
himself  upon  the  necessity  of  supporting  monarchy 
in  France,  he  maintained  the  most  profound  silence 
upon  what  concerns  the  monarch.  The  result  of 
these  conversations  is  anything  but  encouraging; 
but,  even  as  to  that  monarchy  which  he  wishes  to 
save,  will  he  have  means  and  strength  to  save  it  if 
he  suffers  us  to  fall?" 

The  death  of  the  Emperor  Leopold  took  place  on 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  319 

the  1st  of  March,  1792.  When  the  news  of  this 
event  reached  the  Tuileries,  the  Queen  was  gone  out. 
Upon  her  return  I  put  the  letter  containing  it  into  her 
hands.  She  exclaimed  that  the  Emperor  had  been 
poisoned;  that  she  had  remarked  and  preserved  a 
newspaper,  in  which,  in  an  article  upon  the  sitting  of 
the  Jacobins,  at  the  time  when  the  Emperor  Leopold 
declared  for  the  coalition,  it  was  said,  speaking  of 
him,  that  a  pie-crust  would  settle  that  matter.  At 
this  period  Barnave  obtained  the  Queen's  consent 
that  he  should  read  all  the  letters  she  should  write. 
He  was  fearful  of  private  correspondences  that  might 
hamper  the  plan  marked  out  for  her;  he  mistrusted 
her  Majesty's  sincerity  on  this  point;  and  the  diver- 
sity of  counsels,  and  the  necessity  of  yielding,  on  the 
one  hand,  to  some  of  the  views  of  the  constitu- 
tionalists, and  on  the  other,  to  those  of  the  French 
Princes,  and  even  of  foreign  Courts,  were  unfortu- 
nately the  circumstances  which  most  rapidly  impelled 
the  Court  towards  its  ruin. 

However,  the  emigrants  showed  great  apprehen- 
sions of  the  consequences  which  might  follow  in  the 
interior  from  a  connection  with  the  constitutionalists, 
whom  they  described  as  a  party  existing  only  in 
idea,  and  totally  without  means  of  repairing  their 
errors.  The  Jacobins  were  preferred  to  them,  be- 
cause, said  they,  there  would  be  no  treaty  to  be  made 
with  any  one  at  the  moment  of  extricating  the 
King  and  his  family  from  the  abyss  in  which  they 
were  plunged. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

IN  the  beginning  of  the  year  1792,  a  worthy  priest 
requested  a  private  interview  with  me.  He  had 
learned  the  existence  of  a  new  libel  by  Madame 
de  Lamotte.  He  told  me  that  the  people  who  came 
from  London  to  get  it  printed  in  Paris  only  desired 
gain,  and  that  they  were  ready  to  deliver  the  manu- 
script to  him  for  a  thousand  louis,  if  he  could  find 
any  friend  of  the  Queen  disposed  to  make  that  sacri- 
fice for  her  peace;  that  he  had  thought  of  me,  and  if 
her  Majesty  would  give  him  the  twenty-four  thousand 
francs,  he  would  hand  the  manuscript  to  me. 

I  communicated  this  proposal  to  the  Queen,  who 
rejected  it,  and  desired  me  to  answer  that  at  the  time 
when  she  had  power  to  punish  the  hawkers  of  these 
libels  she  deemed  them  so  atrocious  and  incredible 
that  she  despised  them  too  much  to  stop  them;  that 
if  she  were  imprudent  and  weak  enough  to  buy  a  sin- 
gle one  of  them,  the  Jacobins  might  possibly  discover 
the  circumstance  through  their  espionage;  that  were 
this  libel  bought  up,  it  would  be  printed  neverthe- 
less, and  would  be  much  more  dangerous  when  they 
apprised  the  public  of  the  means  she  had  used  to 
suppress  it. 

Baron  d'Aubier,  gentleman-in-ordinary  to  the  King, 
and  my  particular  friend,  had  a  good  memory  and  a 
clear  way  of  communicating  the  substance  of  the 
debates  and  decrees  of  the  National  Assembly.  I 
went  daily  to  the  Queen's  apartments  to  repeat  all 
this  to  the  King,  who  used  to  say,  on  seeing  me, 

320 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  321 

"  Ah !  here's  the  Postilion  par  Calais," — a  newspaper 
of  the  time. 

M.  d'Aubier  one  day  said  to  me :  "  The  Assembly 
has  been  much  occupied  with  an  information  laid 
by  the  workmen  of  the  Sevres  manufactory.  They 
brought  to  the  President's  office  a  bundle  of  pamphlets 
which  they  said  were  the  life  of  Marie  Antoinette. 
The  director  of  the  manufactory  was  ordered  up  to 
the  bar,  and  declared  he  had  received  orders  to  burn 
the  printed  sheets  in  question  in  the  furnaces  used 
for  baking  his  china." 

While  I  was  relating  this  business  to  the  Queen  the 
King  coloured  and  held  his  head  down  over  his  plate. 
The  Queen  said  to  him,  "  Do  you  know  anything 
about  this,  Sire?"  The  King  made  no  answer. 
Madame  Elisabeth  requested  him  to  explain  what  it 
meant.  Louis  was  still  silent.  I  withdrew  hastily. 
A  few  minutes  afterwards  the  Queen  came  to  my 
room  and  informed  me  that  the  King,  out  of  "regard 
lor  her,  had  purchased  the  whole  edition  struck  off 
from  the  manuscript  which  I  had  mentioned  to  her, 
and  that  M.  de  Laporte  had  not  been  able  to  devise 
any  more  secret  way  of  destroying  the  work  than 
that  of  having  it  burnt  at  Sevres,  among  two  hundred 
workmen,  one  hundred  and  eighty  of  whom  must,  in 
all  probability,  be  Jacobins!  She  told  me  she  had 
concealed  her  vexation  from  the  King;  that  he  was 
in  consternation,  and  that  she  could  say  nothing, 
since  his  good  intentions  and  his  affection. for  her  had 
been  the  cause  of  the  mistake. 

Some  time  afterwards  the  Assembly  received  a  de- 
nunciation against  M.  de  Montmorin.  The  ex-min- 
ister was  accused  of  having  neglected  forty  despatches 
from  M.  Genet,  the  charge  d'affaires  from  France  in 
Russia,  not  having  even  unsealed  them,  because  M. 
Genet  acted  on  constitutional  principles.   M.  de  Mont- 


322  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

morin  appeared  at  the  bar  to  answer  this  accusation. 
Whatever  distress  I  might  feel  in  obeying  the  order  I 
had  received  from  the  King  to  go  and  give  him  an 
account  of  the  sitting,  I  thought  I  ought  not  to  fail  in 
doing  so.  But  instead  of  giving  my  brother  his 
family  name,  I  merely  said  "  your  Majesty's  charge 
d'affaires  at  St.  Petersburg." 

The  King  did  me  the  favour  to  say  that  he  noticed 
a  reserve  in  my  account,  of  which  he  approved.  The 
Queen  condescended  to  add  a  few  obliging  remarks  to 
those  of  the  King.  However,  my  office  of  journalist 
gave  me  in  this  instance  so  much  pain  that  I  took  an 
opportunity,  when  the  King  was  expressing  his  satis- 
faction to  me  at  the  manner  in  which  I  gave  him  this 
daily  account,  to  tell  him  that  its  merits  belonged 
wholly  to  M.  d'Aubier;  and  I  ventured  to  request  the 
King  to  suffer  that  excellent  man  to  give  him  an  ac- 
count of  the  sittings  himself.  I  assured  the  King 
that  if  he  would  permit  it,  that  gentleman  might 
proceed  to  the  Queen's  apartments  through  mine 
unseen;  the  King  consented  to  the  arrangement. 
Thenceforward  M.  d'Aubier  gave  the  King  repeated 
proofs  of  zeal  and  attachment. 

The  Cure  of  St.  Eustache  ceased  to  be  the  Queen's 
confessor  when  he  took  the  constitutional  oath.  I  do 
not  remember  the  name  of  the  ecclesiastic  who  suc- 
ceeded him;  I  only  know  that  he  was  conducted  into 
her  apartments  with  the  greatest  mystery.  Their 
Majesties  did  not  perform  their  Easter  devotions  in 
public,  because  they  could  neither  declare  for  the  con- 
stitutional clergy,  nor  act  so  as  to  show  that  they  were 
against  them. 

The  Queen  did  perform  her  Easter  devotions  in 
1792;  but  she  went  to  the  chapel  attended  only  by 
myself.  She  desired  me  beforehand  to  request  one 
of  my  relations,  who  was  her  chaplain,  to  celebrate  a 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  323 

mass  for  fier  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning.  It  was 
still  dark;  she  gave  me  her  arm,  and  I  lighted  her 
with  a  taper.  I  left  her  alone  at  the  chapel  door. 
She  did  not  return  to  her  room  until  the  dawn  of 
day. 

Dangers  increased  daily.  The  Assembly  were 
strengthened  in  the  eyes  of  the  people  by  the  hos- 
tilities of  the  foreign  armies  and  the  army  of  the 
Princes.  The  communication  with  the  latter  party 
became  more  active;  the  Queen  wrote  almost  every 
day.  M.  de  Goguelat  possessed  her  confidence  for 
all  correspondence  with  the  foreign  parties,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  have  him  in  my  apartments;  the  Queen 
asked  for  him  very  frequently,  and  at  times  which 
she  could  not  previously  appoint. 

All  parties  were  exerting  themselves  either  to  ruin 
or  to  save  the  King.  One  day  I  found  the  Queen 
extremely  agitated;  she  told  me  she  no  longer  knew 
where  she  was;  that  the  leaders  of  the  Jacobins  offered 
themselves  to  her  through  the  medium  of  Dumouriez; 
or  that  Dumouriez,  abandoning  the  Jacobins,  had  come 
and  offered  himself  to  her;  that  she  had  granted  him 
an  audience;  that  when  alone  with  her,  he  had  thrown 
himself  at  her  feet,  and  told  her  that  he  had  drawn 
the  bonnet  rouge  over  his  head  to  the  very  ears;  but 
that  he  neither  was  nor  could  be  a  Jacobin;  that  the 
Revolution  had  been  suffered  to  extend  even  to  that 
rabble  of  destroyers  who,  thinking  of  nothing  but  pil- 
lage, were  ripe  for  anything,  and  might  furnish  the 
Assembly  with  a  formidable  army,  ready  to  under- 
mine the  remains  of  a  throne  already  but  too  much 
shaken.  Whilst  speaking  with  the  utmost  ardour  he 
seized  the  Queen's  hand  and  kissed  it  with  transport, 
exclaiming,  "Suffer  yourself  to  be  saved!"  The 
Queen  told  me  that  the  protestations  of  a  traitor 
were  not  to  be  relied  on;  that  the  whole  of  his  con- 

Vol.  3  Memoirs — 11 


324  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

duct  was  so  well  known  that  undoubtedly  the  wisest 
course  was  not  to  trust  to  it;  that,  moreover,  the 
Princes  particularly  recommended  that  no  confidence 
should  be  placed  in  any  proposition  emanating  from 
within  the  kingdom;  that  the  force  without  became 
imposing;  and  that  it  was  better  to  rely  upon  their 
success,  and  upon  the  protection  due  from  Heaven  to 
a  sovereign  so  virtuous  as  Louis  XVI.  and  to  so  just 
a  cause. 

The  constitutionalists,  on  their  part,  saw  that  there 
had  been  nothing  more  than  a  pretence  of  listening 
to  them.  Barnave's  last  advice  was  as  to  the  means 
of  continuing,  a  few  weeks  longer,  the  Constitutional 
Guard,  which  had  been  denounced  to  the  Assembly, 
and  was  to  be  disbanded.  The  denunciation  against 
the  Constitutional  Guard  affected  only  its  staff,  and 
the  Due  de  Brissac.  Barnave  wrote  to  the  Queen 
that  the  staff  of  the  guard  was  already  attacked;  that 
the  Assembly  was  about  to  pass  a  decree  to  reduce  it; 
and  he  entreated  her  to  prevail  on  the  King,  the  very 
instant  the  decree  should  appear,  to  form  the  staff 
afresh  of  persons  whose  names  he  sent  her.  Barnave 
said  that  all  who  were  set  down  in  it  passed  for  de- 
cided Jacobins,  but  were  not  so  in  fact;  that  they,  as 
well  as  himself,  were  in  despair  at  seeing  the  mon- 
archical government  attacked;  that  they  had  learnt 
to  dissemble  their  sentiments,  and  that  it  would  be 
at  least  a  fortnight  before  the  Assembly  could  know 
them  well,  and  certainly  before  it  could  succeed  in 
making  them  unpopular;  that  it  would  be  necessary 
to  take  advantage  of  that  short  space  of  time  to  get 
away  from  Paris,  immediately  after  their  nomination. 
The  Queen  was  of  opinion  that  she  ought  not  to  yield 
to  this  advice.  The  Due  de  Brissac  was  sent  to  Or- 
leans, and  the  guard  was  disbanded. 

Barnave,  seeing  that  the  Queen  did  not  follow  his 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  '325 

counsel  in  anything,  and  convinced  that  she  placed 
all  her  reliance  on  assistance  from  abroad,  determined 
to  quit  Paris.  He  obtained  a  last  audience.  "  Your 
misfortunes,  Madame,"  said  he,  "  and  those  which  I 
anticipate  for  France,  determined  me  to  sacrifice  my- 
self to  serve  you.  I  see,  however,  that  my  advice  does 
not  agree  with  the  views  of  your  Majesties.  I  augur 
but  little  advantage  from  the  plan  you  are  induced  to 
pursue, — you  are  too  remote  from  your  succours;  you 
will  be  lost  before  they  reach  you.  Most  ardently  do 
I  wish  I  may  be  mistaken  in  so  lamentable  a  predic- 
tion; but  I  am  sure  to  pay  with  my  head  for  the  in- 
terest your  misfortunes  have  raised  in  me,  and  the 
services  I  have  sought  to  render  you.  I  request,  for 
my  sole  reward,  the  honour  of  kissing  your  hand." 
The  Queen,  her  eyes  suffused  with  tears,  granted 
him  that  favour,  and  remained  impressed  with  a 
favourable  idea  of  his  sentiments.  Madame  Elisa- 
beth participated  in  this  opinion,  and  the  two  Prin- 
cesses frequently  spoke  of  Barnave.  The  Queen  also 
received  M.  Duport  several  times,  but  with  less  mys- 
tery. Her  connection  with  the  constitutional  depu- 
ties transpired.  Alexandre  de  Lameth  was  the  only 
one  of  the  three  who  survived  the  vengeance  of  the 
Jacobins. 

The  National  Guard,  which  succeeded  the  King's 
Guard,  having  occupied  the  gates  of  the  Tuileries,  all 
who  came  to  see  the  Queen  were  insulted  with  im- 
punity. Menacing  cries  were  uttered  aloud  even  in 
the  Tuileries;  they  called  for  the  destruction  of  the 
throne,  and  the  murder  of  the  sovereign;  the  gross- 
est insults  were  offered  by  the  very  lowest  of  the 
mob. 

About  this  time  the  King  fell  into  a  despondent 
state,  which  amounted  almost  to  physical  helpless- 
ness.    He  passed  ten  successive  days  without  uttering 


326  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

a  single  word,  even  in  the  bosom  of  his  family; 
except,  indeed,  when  playing  at  backgammon  after 
dinner  with  Madame  Elisabeth.  The  Queen  roused 
him  from  this  state,  so  fatal  at  a  critical  period,  by 
throwing  herself  at  his  feet,  urging  every  alarming 
idea,  and  employing  every  affectionate  expression. 
She  represented  also  what  he  owed  to  his  family; 
and  told  him  that  if  they  were  doomed  to  fall  they 
ought  to  fall  honourably,  and  not  wait  to  be  smoth- 
ered upon  the  floor  of  their  apartment. 

About  the  15th  of  June,  1792,  the  King  refused 
his  sanction  to  the  two  decrees  ordaining  the  deporta- 
tion of  priests  and  the  formation  of  a  camp  of  twenty 
thousand  men  under  the  walls  of  Paris.  He  himself 
wished  to  sanction  them,  and  said  that  the  general 
insurrection  only  waited  for  a  pretence  to  burst  forth. 
The  Queen  insisted  upon  the  veto,  and  reproached 
herself  bitterly  when  this  last  act  of  the  constitu- 
tional authority  had  occasioned  the  day  of  the  20th 
of  June. 

A  few  days  previously  about  twenty  thousand  men 
had  gone  to  the  Commune  to  announce  that,  on  the 
20th,  they  would  plant  the  tree  of  liberty  at  the  door 
of  the  National  Assembly,  and  present  a  petition  to  the 
King  respecting  the  veto  which  he  had  placed  upon 
the  decree  for  the  deportation  of  the  priests.  This 
dreadful  army  crossed  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries,  and 
marched  under  the  Queen's  windows;  it  consisted  of 
people  who  called  themselves  the  citizens  of  the  Fau- 
bourgs St.  Antoine  and  St.  Marceau.  Clothed  in 
filthy  rags,  they  bore  a  most  terrifying  appearance, 
and  even  infected  the  air.  People  asked  each  other 
where  such  an  army  could  come  from;  nothing  so 
disgusting  had  ever  before  appeared  in  Paris. 

On  the  20th  of  June  this  mob  thronged  about  the 
Tuileries  in  still  greater  numbers,  armed  with  pikes, 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  32^ 

hatchets,  and  murderous  instruments  of  all  kinds, 
decorated  with  ribbons  of  the  national  colours,  shout- 
ing, "The  nation  for  ever!  Down  with  the  veto!" 
The  King  was  without  guards.  Some  of  these  des- 
peradoes rushed  up  to  his  apartment;  the  door  was 
about  to  be  forced  in,  when  the  King  commanded 
that  it  should  be  opened.  Messieurs  de  Bougainville, 
d'Hervilly,  de  Parois,  d'Aubier,  Acloque,  Gentil,  and 
other  courageous  men  who  were  in  the  apartment  of 
M.  de  Septeuil,  the  King's  first  valet  de  chambre, 
instantly  ran  to  his  Majesty's  apartment.  M.  de 
Bougainville,  seeing  the  torrent  furiously  advancing, 
cried  out,  "  Put  the  King  in  the  recess  of  the  window, 
and  place  benches  before  him."  Six  royalist  grena- 
diers of  the  battalion  of  the  Filles  Saint  Thomas  made 
their  way  by  an  inner  staircase,  and  ranged  them- 
selves before  the  benches.  The  order  given  by  M.  de 
Bougainville  saved  the  King  from  the  blades  of  the 
assassins,  among  whom  was  a  Pole  named  Lazousky, 
who  was  to  strike  the  first  blow.  The  King's  brave 
defenders  said,  "  Sire,  fear  nothing."  The  King's 
reply  is  well  known :  "  Put  your  hand  upon  my  heart, 
and  you  will  perceive  whether  I  am  afraid."  M. 
Vanot,  commandant  of  battalion,  warded  off  a  blow 
aimed  by  a  wretch  against  the  King;  a  grenadier  of 
the  Filles  Saint  Thomas  parried  a  sword-thrust  made 
in  the  same  direction.  Madame  Elisabeth  ran  to  her 
brother's  apartments;  when  she  reached  the  door  she 
heard  loud  threats  of  death  against  the  Queen:  they 
called  for  the  head  of  the  Austrian.  "  Ah !  let  them 
think  I  am  the  Queen,"  she  said  to  those  around  her, 
"  that  she  may  have  time  to  escape." 

The  Queen  could  not  join  the  King;  she  was  in 
the  council  chamber,  where  she  had  been  placed 
behind  the  great  table  to  protect  her,  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, against  the  approach  of  the  barbarians.     Pre- 


328  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

serving  a  noble  and  becoming  demeanour  in  this 
dreadful  situation,  she  held  the  Dauphin  before  her, 
seated  upon  the  table.  Madame  was  at  her  side;  the 
Princesse  de  Lamballe,  the  Princesse  de  Tarente, 
Madame  de  la  Roche-Aymon,  Madame  de  Turzel, 
and  Madame  de  Mackau  surrounded  her.  She  had 
fixed  a  tri-coloured  cockade,  which  one  of  the  National 
Guard  had  given  her,  upon  her  head.  The  poor  little 
Dauphin  was,  like  the  King,  shrouded  in  an  enormous 
red  cap.  The  horde  passed  in  files  before  the  table; 
the  sort  of  standards  which  they  carried  were  symbols 
of  the  most  atrocious  barbarity.  There  was  one  rep- 
resenting a  gibbet,  to  which  a  dirty  doll  was  sus- 
pended; the  words  "Marie  Antoinette  a  la  lanterne'* 
were  written  beneath  it.  Another  was  a  board,  to 
which  a  bullock's  heart  was  fastened,  with  "  Heart  of 
Louis  XVI."  written  round  it.  And  a  third  showed 
the  horn  of  an  ox,  with  an  obscene  inscription. 

One  of  the  most  furious  Jacobin  women  who 
marched  with  these  wretches  stopped  to  give  vent  to 
a  thousand  imprecations  against  the  Queen.  Her 
Majesty  asked  whether  she  had  ever  seen  her.  She 
replied  that  she  had  not.  Whether  she  had  done  her 
any  personal  wrong?  Her  answer  was  the  same;  but 
she  added : 

"It  is  you  who  have  caused  the  misery  of  the 
nation." 

"You  have  been  told  so/'  answered  the  Queen; 
"  you  are  deceived.  As  the  wife  of  the  King  of 
France,  and  mother  of  the  Dauphin,  I  am  a  French- 
woman; I  shall  never  see  my  own  country  again, — - 
I  can  be  happy  or  unhappy  only  in  France;  I  was 
happy  when  you  loved  me." 

The  fury  began  to  weep,  asked  her  pardon,  and 
said,  "  It  was  because  I  did  not  know  you;  I  see  that 
you  are  good." 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  329 

Santerre,  the  monarch  of  the  faubourgs,  made  his 
subjects  file  off  as  quickly  as  he  could;  and  it  was 
thought  at  the  time  that  he  was  ignorant  of  the 
object  of  this  insurrection,  which  was  the  murder  of 
the  royal  family.  However,  it  was  eight  o'clock  in  the 
evening  before  the  palace  was  completely  cleared, 
Twelve  deputies,  impelled  by  attachment  to  the  King's 
person,  ranged  themselves  near  him  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  insurrection;  but  the  deputation  from  the 
Assembly  did  not  reach  the  Tuileries  until  six  in  the 
evening;  all  the  doors  of  the  apartments  were  broken. 
The  Queen  pointed  out  to  the  deputies  the  state  of  the 
King's  palace,  and  the  disgraceful  manner  in  which 
his  asylum  had  been  violated  under  the  very  eyes  of 
the  Assembly;  she  saw  that  Merlin  de  Thionville  was 
so  much  affected  as  to  shed  tears  while  she  spoke. 

"  You  weep,  M.  Merlin,"  said  she  to  him,  "  at  see- 
ing the  King  and  his  family  so  cruelly  treated  by  a 
people  whom  he  always  wished  to  make  happy." 

"True,  Madame,"  replied  Merlin;  "I  weep  for 
the  misfortunes  of  a  beautiful  and  feeling  woman,  the 
mother  of  a  family;  but  do  not  mistake,  not  one  of 
my  tears  falls  for  either  King  or  Queen;  I  hate  kings 
and  queens, — it  is  my  religion." 

The  Queen  could  not  appreciate  this  madness,  and 
saw  all  that  was  to  be  apprehended  by  persons  who 
evinced  it. 

All  hope  was  gone,  and  nothing  was  thought  of 
but  succour  from  abroad.  The  Queen  appealed  to  her 
family  and  the  King's  brothers;  her  letters  probably 
became  more  pressing,  and  expressed  apprehensions 
upon  the  tardiness  of  relief.  Her  Majesty  read  me 
one  to  herself  from  the  Archduchess  Christina,  Gou- 
vernante  of  the  Low  Countries:  she  reproached  the 
Queen  for  some  of  her  expressions,  and  told  her  that 
those  out  of  France  were  at  least  as  much  alarmed  as 


330  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

herself  at  the  King's  situation  and  her  own;  but  that 
the  manner  of  attempting  to  assist  her  might  either 
save  her  or  endanger  her  safety;  and  that  the  mem- 
bers of  the  coalition  were  bound  to  act  prudently,  en- 
trusted as  they  were  with  interests  so  dear  to  them. 

The  14th  of  July,  1792,  fixed  by  the  constitution 
as  the  anniversary  of  the  independence  of  the  nation, 
drew  near.  The  King  and  Queen  were  compelled  to 
make  their  appearance  on  the  occasion;  aware  that 
the  plot  of  the  20th  of  June  had  their  assassination 
for  its  object,  they  had  no  doubt  but  that  their  death 
was  determined  on  for  the  day  of  this  national  festi- 
val. The  Queen  was  recommended,  in  order  to  give 
the  King's  friends  time  to  defend  him  if  the  attack 
should  be  made,  to  guard  him  against  the  first  stroke 
of  a  dagger  by  making  him  wear  a  breastplate.  I 
was  directed  to  get  one  made  in  my  apartments :  it 
was  composed  of  fifteen  folds  of  Italian  taffety,  and 
formed  into  an  under-waistcoat  and  a  wide  belt.  This 
breastplate  was  tried;  it  resisted  all  thrusts  of  the 
dagger,  and  several  balls  were  turned  aside  by  it. 
When  it  was  completed  the  difficulty  was  to  let  the 
King  try  it  on  without  running  the  risk  of  being  sur- 
prised. I  wore  the  immense  heavy  waistcoat  as  an 
under-petticoat  for  three  days  without  being  able  to 
find  a  favourable  moment.  At  length  the  King  found 
an  opportunity  one  morning  to  pull  off  his  coat  in  the 
Queen's  chamber  and  try  on  the  breastplate. 
~  The  Queen  was  in  bed;  the  King  pulled  me  gently 
by  the  gown,  and  drew  me  as  far  as  he  could  from 
the  Queen's  bed,  and  said  to  me,  in  a  very  low  tone 
of  voice:  "It  is  to  satisfy  her  that  I  submit  to  this 
inconvenience:  they  will  not  assassinate  me;  their 
scheme  is  changed;  they  will  put  me  to  death  an- 
other way."  The  Queen  heard  the  King  whispering 
to  me,  and  when  he  was  gone  out  she  asked  me  what 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  331 

he  had  said.  I  hesitated  to  answer;  she  insisted  that 
I  should,  saying  that  nothing  must  be  concealed  from 
her,  and  that  she  was  resigned  upon  every  point. 
When  she  was  informed  of  the  King's  remark  she 
told  me  she  had  guessed  it,  that  he  had  long  since 
observed  to  her  that  all  which  was  going  forward  in 
France  was  an  imitation  of  the  revolution  in  England 
in  the  time  of  Charles  I.,  and  that  he  was  incessantly 
reading  the  history  of  that  unfortunate  monarch  in 
order  that  he  might  act  better  than  Charles  had  done 
at  a  similar  crisis.  "  I  begin  to  be  fearful  of  the 
King's  being  brought  to  trial,"  continued  the  Queen; 
"as  to  me,  I  am  a  foreigner;  they  will  assassinate 
me.  What  will  become  of  my  poor  children?" 
These  sad  ejaculations  were  followed  by  a  torrent 
of  tears.  I  wished  to  give  her  an  antispasmodic; 
she  refused  it,  saying  that  only  happy  women  could 
feel  nervous;  that  the  cruel  situation  to  which  she 
was  reduced  rendered  these  remedies  useless.  In 
fact,  the  Queen,  who  during  her  happier  days  was 
frequently  "attacked  by  hysterical  disorders,  enjoyed 
more  uniform  health  when  all  the  faculties  of  her 
soul  were  called  forth  to  support  her  physical  strength. 
I  had  prepared  a  corset  for  her,  for  the  same  pur- 
pose as  the  King's  under-waistcoat,  without  her 
knowledge;  but  she  would  not  make  use  of  it;  all 
my  entreaties,  all  my  tears,  were  in  vain.  "  If  the 
factions  assassinate  me,"  she  replied,  "  it  will  be 
a  fortunate  event  for  me ;  they  will  deliver  me  from 
a  most  painful  existence."  A  few  days  after  the 
King  had  tried  on  his  breastplate  I  met  him  on  a 
back  staircase.  I  drew  back  to  let  him  pass.  He 
stopped  and  took  my  hand;  I  wished  to  kiss  his;  he 
would  not  suffer  it,  but  drew  me  towards  him  by  the 
hand,  and  kissed  both  my  cheeks  without  saying  a 
single  word. 


332  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  fear  of  another  attack  upon  the  Tuileries  oc- 
casioned scrupulous  search  among  the  King's  papers: 
I  burnt  almost  all  those  belonging  to  the  Queen. 
She  put  her  family  letters,  a  great  deal  of  correspond- 
ence which  she  thought  it  necessary  to  preserve  for 
the  history  of  the  era  of  the  Revolution,  and  particu- 
larly Barnave's  letters  and  her  answers,  of  which  she 
had  copies,  into  a  portfolio,  which  she  entrusted  to 

M    de  J .     That  gentleman  was  unable  to  save 

this  deposit,  and  it  was  burnt.  The  Queen  left  a 
few  papers  in  her  secretaire.  Among  them  were 
instructions  to  Madame  de  Tourzel,  respecting  the 
dispositions  of  her  children  and  the  characters  and 
abilities  of  the  sub-governesses  under  that  lady's 
orders.  This  paper,  which  the  Queen  drew  up  at 
the  time  of  Madame  de  Tourzel's  appointment,  with 
several  letters  from  Maria  Theresa.,  filled  with  the  best 
advice  and  instructions,  was  printed  after  the  ioth  of 
August  by  order  of  the  Assembly  in  the  collection  of 
papers  found  in  the  secretaires  of  the  King  and  Queen. 

Her  Majesty  had  still,  without  reckoning  the  in- 
come of  the  month,  one  hundred  and  forty  thousand 
francs  in  gold.  She  was  desirous  of  depositing  the 
whole  of  it  with  me;  but  I  advised  her  to  retain  fif- 
teen hundred  louis,  as  a  sum  of  rather  considerable 
amount  might  be  suddenly  necessary  for  her.  The 
King  had  an  immense  quantity  of  papers,  and  un- 
fortunately conceived  the  idea  of  privately  making, 
with  the  assistance  of  a  locksmith  who  had  worked 
with  him  above  ten  years,  a  place  of  concealment  in 
an  inner  corridor  of  his  apartments.  The  place  of 
concealment,  but  for  the  man's  information,  would 
have  been  long  undiscovered.  The  wall  in  which 
it  was  made  was  painted  to  imitate  large  stones,  and 
the  opening  was  entirely  concealed  among  the  brown 
grooves  which  formed  the  shaded  part  of  these  painted 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  333 

stones.  But  even  before  this  locksmith  had  denounced 
what  was  afterwards  called  the  iron  closet  to  the  As- 
sembly, the  Queen  was  aware  that  he  had  talked  of  it 
to  some  of  his  friends;  and  that  this  man,  in  whom 
the  King  from  long  habit  placed  too  much  confidence, 
was  a  Jacobin.  She  warned  the  King  of  it,  and  pre- 
vailed on  him  to  fill  a  very  large  portfolio  with  all  the 
papers  he  was  most  interested  in  preserving,  and  en- 
trust it  to  me.  She  entreated  him  in  my  presence 
to  leave  nothing  in  this  closet;  and  the  King,  in 
order  to  quiet  her,  told  her  that  he  had  left  nothing 
there.  I  would  have  taken  the  portfolio  and  carried 
it  to  my  apartment,  but  it  was  too  heavy  for  me  to 
lift.  The  King  said  he  would  carry  it  himself;  I  went 
before  to  open  the  doors  for  him.  When  he  placed 
the  portfolio  in  my  inner  closet  he  merely  said,  "  The 
Queen  will  tell  you  what  it  contains."  Upon  my 
return  to  the  Queen  I  put  the  question  to  her,  deem- 
ing, from  what  the  King  had  said,  that  it  was  neces- 
sary I  should  know.  "  They  are,"  the  Queen  answered 
me,  "  such  documents  as  would  be  most  dangerous  to 
the  King  should  they  go  so  far  as  to  proceed  to  a 
trial  against  him.  But  what  he  wishes  me  to  tell 
you  is,  that  the  portfolio  contains  a  proces-verbal  of 
a  cabinet  council,  in  which  the  King  gave  his  opinion 
against  the  war.  He  had  it  signed  by  all  the  minis- 
ters, and,  in  case  of  a  trial,  he  trusts  that  this  docu- 
ment will  be  very  useful  to  him."  I  asked  the  Queen 
to  whom  she  thought  I  ought  to  commit  the  portfolio. 
"To  whom  you  please,"  answered  she;  "you  alone 
are  answerable  for  it.  Do  not  quit  the  palace  even 
during  your  vacation  months:  there  may  be  circum- 
stances under  which  it  would  be  very  desirable  that 
we  should  be  able  to  have  it  instantly." 

At  this  period  M.  de  La  Fayette,  who  had  probably 
given  up  the  idea  of  establishing  a  republic  in  France 


334  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

similar  to  that  of  the  United  States,  and  was  desirous 
to  support  the  first  constitution  which  he  had  sworn  to 
defend,  quitted  his  army  and  came  to  the  Assembly 
for  the  purpose  of  supporting  by  his  presence  and  by 
an  energetic  speech  a  petition  signed  by  twenty  thou- 
sand citizens  against  the  late  violation  of  the  residence 
of  the  King  and  his  family.  The  General  found  the 
constitutional  party  powerless,  and  saw  that  he  him- 
self had  lost  his  popularity.  The  Assembly  disap- 
proved of  the  step  he  had  taken;  the  King,  for  whom 
it  was  taken,  showed  no  satisfaction  at  it,  and  he  saw 
himself  compelled  to  return  to  his  army  as  quickly  as 
he  could.  He  thought  he  could  rely  on  the  National 
Guard;  but  on  the  day  of  his  arrival  those  officers 
who  were  in  the  King's  interest  inquired  of  his  Maj- 
esty whether  they  were  to  forward  the  views  of  Gen- 
eral de  La  Fayette  by  joining  him  in  such  measures 
as  he  should  pursue  during  his  stay  at  Paris.  The 
King  enjoined  them  not  to  do  so.  From  this  answer 
M.  de  La  Fayette  perceived  that  he  was  abandoned 
by  the  remainder  of  his  party  in  the  Paris  guard. 

On  his  arrival  a  plan  was  presented  to  the  Queen, 
in  which  it  was  proposed  by  a  junction  between  La 
Fayette's  army  and  the  King's  party  to  rescue  the 
royal  family  and  convey  them  to  Rouen.  I  did  not 
learn  the  particulars  of  this  plan;  the  Queen  only 
said  to  me  upon  the  subject  that  M.  de  La  Fayette 
was  offered  to  them  as  a  resource;  but  that  it  would 
be  better  for  them  to  perish  than  to  owe  their  safety 
to  the  man  who  had  done  them  the  most  mischief, 
or  to  place  themselves  under  the  necessity  of  treating 
with  him. 

I  passed  the  whole  month  of  July  without  going 
to  bed;  I  was  fearful  of  some  attack  by  night.  There 
was  one  plot  against  the  Queen's  life  which  has  never 
been  made  known.    I  was  alone  by  her  bedside  at  one 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  335 

o'clock  in  the  morning;  we  heard  somebody  walking 
softly  down  the  corridor,  which  passes  along  the  whole 
line  of  her  apartments,  and  which  was  then  locked  at 
each  end.  I  went  out  to  fetch  the  valet  de  chambre; 
he  entered  the  corridor,  and  the  Queen  and  myself 
soon  heard  the  noise  of  two  men  fighting.  The  unfor- 
tunate Princess  held  me  locked  in  her  arms,  and 
said  to  me,  "What  a  situation!  insults  by  day  and 
assassins  by  night !  "  The  valet  de  chambre  cried 
out  to  her  from  the  corridor,  "  Madame,  it  is  a  wretch 
that  I  know;  I  have  him!  "  "  Let  him  go,"  said  the 
Queen;  "open  the  door  to  him;  he  came  to  murder 
me;  the  Jacobins  would  carry  him  about  in  triumph 
to-morrow."  The  man  was  a  servant  of  the  King's 
toilet,  who  had  taken  the  key  of  the  corridor  out  of 
his  Majesty's  pocket  after  he  was  in  bed,  no  doubt 
with  the  intention  of  committing  the  crime  suspected. 
The  valet  de  chambre,  who  was  a  very  strong  man, 
held  him  by  the  wrists,  and  thrust  him  out  at  the 
door.  The  wretch  did  not  speak  a  word.  The  valet 
de  chambre  said,  in  answer  to  the  Queen,  who  spoke 
to  him  gratefully  of  the  danger  to  which  he  had  ex- 
posed himself,  that  he  feared  nothing,  and  that  he 
had  always  a  pair  of  excellent  pistols  about  him  for 
no  other  purpose  than  to  defend  her  Majesty.  The 
next  day  M.  de  Septeuil  had  all  the  locks  of  the  King's 
inner  apartments  changed.  I  did  the  same  by  those 
of  the  Queen. 

We  were  every  moment  told  that  the  Faubourg  St. 
Antoine  was  preparing  to  march  against  the  palace. 
At  four  o'clock  one  morning  towards  the  latter  end  of 
July  a  person  came  to  give  me  information  to  that 
effect.  I  instantly  sent  off  two  men,  on  whom  I  could 
rely,  with  orders  to  proceed  to  the  usual  places  for 
assembling,  and  to  come  back  speedily,  and  give  me  an 
account  of  the  state  of  the  city.    We  knew  that  at  least 


336  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

an  hour  must  elapse  before  the  populace  or  the  fau- 
bourgs assembled  on  the  site  of  the  Bastille  could  reach 
the  Tuileries.  It  seemed  to  me  sufficient  for  the 
Queen's  safety  that  all  about  her  should  be  awakened. 
I  went  softly  into  her  room;  she  was  asleep;  I  did 

not  awaken  her.     I  found  General  de  W in  the 

great  closet;  he  told  me  the  meeting  was,  for  this 
once,  dispersing.  The  General  had  endeavoured  to 
please  the  populace  by  the  same  means  as  M.  de  La 
Fayette  had  employed.  He  saluted  the  lowest  pois- 
sarde,  and  lowered  his  hat  down  to  his  very  stirrup. 
But  the  populace,  who  had  been  flattered  for  three 
years,  required  far  different  homage  to  its  power,  and 
the  poor  man  was  unnoticed.  The  King  had  been 
awakened,  and  so  had  Madame  Elisabeth,  who  had 
gone  to  him.  The  Queen,  yielding  to  the  weight  of 
her  griefs,  slept  till  nine  o'clock  on  that  day,  which 
was  very  unusual  with  her.  The  King  had  already 
been  to  know  whether  she  was  awake;  I  told  him  what 
I  had  done,  and  the  care  I  had  taken  not  to  disturb 
her.  He  thanked  me,  and  said,  "  I  was  awake,  and 
so  was  the  whole  palace;  she  ran  no  risk.  I  am  very 
glad  to  see  her  take  a  little  rest.  Alas!  her  griefs 
double  mine !  "  What  was  my  chagrin  when,  upon 
awaking  and  learning  what  had  passed,  the  Queen 
burst  into  tears  from  regret  at  not  having  been  called, 
and  began  to  upbraid  me,  on  whose  friendship  she 
ought  to  have  been  able  to  rely,  for  having  served  her 
so  ill  under  such  circumstances !  In  vain  did  I  reit- 
erate that  it  had  been  only  a  false  alarm,  and  that  she 
required  to  have  her  strength  recruited.  "  It  is  not 
diminished,"  said  she;  "misfortune  gives  us  addi- 
tional strength.  Elisabeth  was  with  the  King,  and 
I  was  asleep, — I  who  am  determined  to  perish  by  his 
side!  I  am  his  wife;  I  will  not  suffer  him  to  incur 
the  smallest  risk  without  my  sharing  it." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

DURING  July  the  correspondence  of  M. 
Bertrand  de  Molleville  with  the  King  and 
Queen  was  most  active.  M.  de  Marsilly, 
formerly  a  lieutenant  of  the  Cent-Suisses  of  the 
Guard,  was  the  bearer  of  the  letters.  He  came  to  me 
the  first  time  with  a  note  from  the  Queen  directed 
to  M.  Bertrand  himself.  In  this  note  the  Queen 
said :  "  Address  yourself  with  full  confidence  to 
Madame  Campan;  the  conduct  of  her  brother  in  Rus- 
sia has  not  at  all  influenced  her  sentiments;  she  is 
wholly  devoted  to  us;  and  if,  hereafter,  you  should 
have  anything  to  say  to  us  verbally,  you  may  rely  en- 
tirely upon  her  devotion  and  discretion." 

The  mobs  which  gathered  almost  nightly  in  the 
faubourgs  alarmed  the  Queen's  friends;  they  entreated 
her  not  to  sleep  in  her  room  on  the  ground  floor  of 
the  Tuileries.  She  removed  to  the  first  floor,  to  a 
room  which  was  between  the  King's  apartments  and 
those  of  the  Dauphin.  Being  awake  always  from 
daybreak,  she  ordered  that  neither  the  shutters  nor 
the  window-blinds  should  be  closed,  that  her  long 
sleepless  nights  might  be  the  less  weary.  About  the 
middle  of  one  of  these  nights,  when  the  moon  was 
shining  into  her  bedchamber,  she  gazed  at  it,  and 
told  me  that  in  a  month  she  should  not  see  that  moon 
unless  freed  from  her  chains,  and  beholding  the  King 
at  liberty.  She  then  imparted  to  me  all  that  was 
concurring  to  deliver  them;  but  said  that  the  opinions 
of  their  intimate  advisers  were  alarmingly  at  vari- 
ance; that  some  vouched  for  complete  success,  while 


338  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

others  pointed  out  insurmountable  dangers.  She 
added  that  she  possessed  the  itinerary  of  the  march 
of  the  Princes  and  the  King  of  Prussia :  that  on  such 
a  day  they  would  be  at  Verdun,  on  another  day  at 
such  a  place,  that  Lille  was  about  to  be  besieged,  but 

that  M.  de  J ,  whose  prudence  and  intelligence  the 

King,  as  well  as  herself,  highly  valued,  alarmed  them 
much  respecting  the  success  of  that  siege,  and  made 
them  apprehensive  that,  even  were  the  commandant 
devoted  to  them,  the  civil  authority,  which  by  the  con- 
stitution gave  great  power  to  the  mayors  of  towns, 
would  overrule  the  military  commandant.  She  was 
also  very  uneasy  as  to  what  would  take  place  at  Paris 
during  the  interval,  and  spoke  to  me  of  the  King's 
want  of  energy,  but  always  in  terms  expressive  of  her 
veneration  for  his  virtues  and  her  attachment  to  him- 
self. "The  King,"  said  she,  "is  not  a  coward;  he 
possesses  abundance  of  passive  courage,  but  he  is 
overwhelmed  by  an  awkward  shyness,  a  mistrust  of 
himself,  which  proceeds  from  his  education  as  much 
as  from  his  disposition.  He  is  afraid  to  command, 
and,  above  all  things,  dreads  speaking  to  assembled 
numbers.  He  lived  like  a  child,  and  always  ill  at 
ease  under  the  eyes  of  Louis  XV.,  until  the  age  of 
twenty-one.  This  constraint  confirmed  his  timidity. 
Circumstanced  as  we  are,  a  few  well-delivered  words 
addressed  to  the  Parisians,  who  are  devoted  to  him, 
would  multiply  the  strength  of  our  party  a  hundred- 
fold:  he  will  not  utter  them.  What  can  we  expect 
from  those  addresses  to  the  people  which  he  has  been 
advised  to  post  up?  Nothing  but  fresh  outrages. 
As  for  myself,  I  could  do  anything,  and  would  appear 
on  horseback,  if  necessary.  But  if  I  were  really  to 
begin  to  act,  that  would  be  furnishing  arms  to  the 
King's  enemies;  the  cry  against  the  Austrian,  and 
against  the  sway  of  a  woman,  would  become  general 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  339 

in  France;  and,  moreover,  by  showing  myself,  I 
should  render  the  King  a  mere  nothing.  A  queen  who 
is  not  regent  ought,  under  these  circumstances,  to  re- 
main passive  and  prepare  to  die." 

The  garden  of  the  Tuileries  was  full  of  maddened 
men,  who  insulted  all  who  seemed  to  side  with  the 
Court.  "  The  Life  of  Marie  Antoinette  "  was  cried 
under  the  Queen's  windows,  infamous  plates  were 
annexed  to  the  book,  the  hawkers  showed  them  to 
the  passers-by.  On  all  sides  were  heard  the  jubilant 
outcries  of  a  people  in  a  state  of  delirium  almost  as 
frightful  as  the  explosion  of  their  rage.  The  Queen 
and  her  children  were  unable  to  breathe  the  open  air 
any  longer.  It  was  determined  that  the  garden  of 
the  Tuileries  should  be  closed;  as  soon  as  this  step 
was  taken  the  Assembly  decreed  that  the  whole  length 
of  the  Terrace  des  Feuillans  belonged  to  it,  and  fixed 
the  boundary  between  what  was  called  the  national 
ground  and  the  Coblentz  ground  by  a  tricoloured  rib- 
bon stretched  from  one  end  of  the  terrace  to  the  other. 
All  good  citizens  were  ordered,  by  notices  affixed  to 
it,  not  to  go  down  into  the  garden,  under  pain  of 
being  treated  in  the  same  manner  as  Foulon  and  Ber- 
thier.  A  young  man  who  did  not  observe  this  written 
order  went  down  into  the  garden;  furious  outcries, 
threats  of  la  lantemc,  and  the  crowd  of  people  which 
collected  upon  the  terrace  warned  him  of  his  impru- 
dence, and  the  danger  which  he  ran.  He  immediately 
pulled  off  his  shoes,  took  out  his  handkerchief,  and 
wiped  the  dust  from  their  soles.  The  people  cried 
out,  "Bravo!  the  good  citizen  for  ever!"  He  was 
carried  off  in  triumph.  The  shutting  up  of  the  Tuile- 
ries did  not  enable  the  Queen  and  her  children  to 
walk  in  the  garden.  The  people  on  the  terrace  sent 
forth  dreadful  shouts,  and  she  was  twice  compelled  to 
return  to  her  apartments. 


340  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

In  the  early  part  of  August  many  zealous  per- 
sons offered  the  King  money;  he  refused  consider- 
able sums,  being  unwilling  to  injure  the  fortunes  of 
individuals.  M.  de  la  Ferte,  intendant  of  the  menus 
plaisirs,  brought  me  a  thousand  louis,  requesting  me  to 
lay  them  at  the  feet  of  the  Queen.  He  thought  she 
could  not  have  too  much  money  at  so  perilous  a  time, 
and  that  every  good  Frenchman  should  hasten  to  place 
all  his  ready  money  in  her  hands.  She  refused  this 
sum,  and  others  of  much  greater  amount  which  were 
offered  to  her.  However,  a  few  days  afterwards,  she 
told  me  she  would  accept  M.  de  la  Ferte' s  twenty- 
four  thousand  francs,  because  they  would  make  up  a 
sum  which  the  King  had  to  expend.  She  therefore 
directed  me  to  go  and  receive  those  twenty-four  thou- 
sand francs,  to  add  them  to  the  one  hundred  thousand 
francs  she  had  placed  in  my  hands,  and  to  change  the 
whole  into  assignats  to  increase  their  amount.  Her 
orders  were  executed,  and  the  assignats  were  delivered 
to  the  King.  The  Queen  informed  me  that  Madame 
Elisabeth  had  found  a  well-meaning  man  who  had 
engaged  to  gain  over  Petion  by  the  bribe  of  a  large 
sum  of  money,  and  that  deputy  would,  by  a  precon- 
certed signal,  inform  the  King  of  the  success  of  the 
project.  His  Majesty  soon  had  an  opportunity  of 
seeing  Petion,  and  on  the  Queen  asking  him  before 
me  if  he  was  satisfied  with  him,  the  King  replied, 
"  Neither  more  nor  less  satisfied  than  usual;  he  did 
not  make  the  concerted  signal,  and  I  believe  I  have 
been  cheated."  The  Queen  then  condescended  to  ex- 
plain the  whole  of  the  enigma  to  me.  "  Petion,"  said 
she,  "  was,  while  talking  to  the  King,  to  have  kept 
his  finger  fixed  upon  his  right  eye  for  at  least  two 
seconds."  "  Pie  did  not  even  put  his  hand  up  to  his 
chin,"  said  the  King;  "  after  all,  it  is  but  so  much 
money  stolen:  the  thief  will  not  boast  of  it,  and  the 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  341 

affair  will  remain  a  secret.  Let  us  talk  of  something 
else."  He  turned  to  me  and  said,  "  Your  father  was 
an  intimate  friend  of  Mandat,  who  now  commands 
the  National  Guard;  describe  him  to  me;  what  ought 
I  to  expect  from  him?  "  I  answered  that  he  was  one 
of  his  Majesty's  most  faithful  subjects,  but  that  with 
a  great  deal  of  loyalty  he  possessed  very  little  sense, 
and  that  he  was  involved  in  the  constitutional  vortex. 
"  I  understand,"  said  the  King;  "  he  is  a  man  who 
would  defend  my  palace  and  my  person,  because  that 
is  enjoined  by  the  constitution  which  he  has  sworn  to 
support,  but  who  would  fight  against  the  party  in 
favour  of  sovereign  authority;  it  is  well  to  know  this 
with  certainty." 

On  the  next  day  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe  sent  for 
me  very  early  in  the  morning.  I  found  her  on  a  sofa 
facing  a  window  that  looked  upon  the  Pont  Royal. 
She  then  occupied  that  apartment  of  the  Pavilion  of 
Flora  which  was  on  a  level  with  that  of  the  Queen. 
She  desired  me  to  sit  down  by  her.  Her  Highness 
had  a  writing-desk  upon  her  knees.  "  You  have  had 
many  enemies,"  said  she;  "attempts  have  been  made 
to  deprive  you  of  the  Queen's  favour;  they  have  been 
far  from  successful.  Do  you  know  that  even  I  my- 
self, not  being  so  well  acquainted  with  you  as  the 
Queen,  was  rendered  suspicious  of  you;  and  that  upon 
the  arrival  of  the  Court  at  the  Tuileries  I  gave  you  a 
companion  to  be  a  spy  upon  you;  and  that  I  had 
another  belonging  to  the  police  placed  at  your  door! 
I  was  assured  that  you  received  five  or  six  of  the 
most  virulent  deputies  of  the  Tiers  Etat;  but  it  was 
that  wardrobe  woman  whose  rooms  were  above  you. 
In  short,"  said  the  Princess,  "  persons  of  integrity 
have  nothing  to  fear  from  the  evil-disposed  when  they 
belong  to  so  upright  a  prince  as  the  King.  As  to  the 
Queen,  she  knows  you,  and  has  loved  you  ever  since 


342  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

she  came  into  France.  You  shall  judge  of  the  King's 
opinion  of  you :  it  was  yesterday  evening  decided  in 
the  family  circle  that,  at  a  time  when  the  Tuileries  is 
likely  to  be  attacked,  it  was  necessary  to  have  the 
most  faithful  account  of  the  opinions  and  conduct 
of  all  the  individuals  composing  the  Queen's  service. 
The  King  takes  the  same  precaution  on  his  part  re- 
specting all  who  are  about  him.  He  said  there  was 
with  him  a  person  of  great  integrity,  to  whom  he 
would  commit  this  inquiry;  and  that,  with  regard  to 
the  Queen's  household,  you  must  be  spoken  to,  that 
he  had  long  studied  your  character,  and  that  he  es- 
teemed your  veracity." 

The  Princess  had  a  list  of  the  names  of  all  who 
belonged  to  the  Queen's  chamber  on  her  desk.  She 
asked  me  for  information  respecting  each  individual. 
I  was  fortunate  in  having  none  but  the  most  favour- 
able information  to  give.  I  had  to  speak  of  my 
avowed  enemy  in  the  Queen's  chamber;  of  her  who 
most  wished  that  I  should  be  responsible  for  my 
brother's  political  opinions.  The  Princess,  as  the 
head  of  the  chamber,  could  not  be  ignorant  of  this 
circumstance;  but  as  the  person  in  question,  who  idol- 
ised the  King  and  Queen,  would  not  have  hesitated  to 
sacrifice  her  life  in  order  to  save  theirs,  and  as  pos- 
sibly her  attachment  to  them,  united  to  considerable 
narrowness  of  intellect  and  a  limited  education,  con- 
tributed to  her  jealousy  of  me,  I  spoke  of  her  in  the 
highest  terms. 

The  Princess  wrote  as  I  dictated,  and  occasionally 
looked  at  me  with  astonishment.  When  I  had  done 
I  entreated  her  to  write  in  the  margin  that  the  lady 
alluded  to  was  my  declared  enemy.  She  embraced 
me,  saying,  "  Ah !  do  not  write  it !  we  should  not 
record  an  unhappy  circumstance  which  ought  to  be 
forgotten."     We  came  to  a  man  of  genius  who  was 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  343 

much  attached  to  the  Queen,  and  I  described  him  as 
a  man  born  solely  to  contradict,  showing  himself  an 
aristocrat  with  democrats,  and  a  democrat  among 
aristocrats;  but  still  a  man  of  probity,  and  well  dis- 
posed to  his  sovereign.  The  Princess  said  she  knew 
many  persons  of  that  disposition,  and  that  she  was 
delighted  I  had  nothing  to  say  against  this  man,  be- 
cause she  herself  had  placed  him  about  the  Queen. 

The  whole  of  her  Majesty's  chamber,  which  con- 
sisted entirely  of  persons  of  fidelity,  gave  throughout 
all  the  dreadful  convulsions  of  the  Revolution  proofs 
of  the  greatest  prudence  and  self-devotion.  The  same 
cannot  be  said  of  the  antechambers.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  three  or  four,  all  the  servants  of  that  class 
were  outrageous  Jacobins;  and  I  saw  on  those  occa- 
sions the  necessity  of  composing  the  private  household 
of  princes  of  persons  completely  separated  from  the 
class  of  the  people. 

The  situation  of  the  royal  family  was  so  unbearable 
during  the  months  which  immediately  preceded  the 
10th  of  August  that  the  Queen  longed  for  the  crisis, 
whatever  might  be  its  issue.  She  frequently  said 
that  a  long  confinement  in  a  tower  by  the  seaside 
would  seem  to  her  less  intolerable  than  those  feuds 
in  which  the  weakness  of  her  party  daily  threatened 
an  inevitable  catastrophe. 

Not  only  were  their  Majesties  prevented  from 
breathing  the  open  air,  but  they  were  also  insulted 
at  the  very  foot  of  the  altar.  The  Sunday  before 
the  last  day  of  the  monarchy,  while  the  royal  family 
went  through  the  gallery  to  the  chapel,  half  the 
soldiers  of  the  National  Guard  exclaimed,  "  Long  live 
the  King!"  and  the  other  half,  "No;  no  King! 
Down  with  the  veto !  "  and  on  that  day  at  vespers 
the  choristers  preconcerted  to  use  loud  and  threat- 
ening emphasis  when  chanting  the  words,  "  Deposuit 


344  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

potentes  de  sede,"  in  the  "  Magnificat."  Incensed  at 
such  an  irreverent  proceeding,  the  royalists  in  their 
turn  thrice  exclaimed,  "  Et  reginam,"  after  the 
"  Domine  salvum  fac  regem."  The  tumult  during 
the  whole  time  of  divine  service  was  excessive. 

At  length  the  terrible  night  of  the  ioth  of  August, 
1792,  arrived.  On  the  preceding  evening  Petion  went 
to  the  Assembly  and  informed  it  that  preparations 
were  making  for  an  insurrection  on  the  following 
day;  that  the  tocsin  would  sound  at  midnight;  and 
that  he  feared  he  had  not  sufficient  means  for  resist- 
ing the  attack  which  was  about  to  take  place.  Upon 
this  information  the  Assembly  passed  to  the  order 
of  the  day.  Petion,  however,  gave  an  order  for  re- 
pelling force  by  force.  M.  Mandat  was  armed  with 
this  order;  and,  finding  his  fidelity  to  the  King's 
person  supported  by  what  he  considered  the  law  of 
the  State,  he  conducted  himself  in  all  his  operations 
with  the  greatest  energy.  On  the  evening  of  the 
9th  I  was  present  at  the  King's  supper.  While  his 
Majesty  was  giving  me  various  orders  we  heard  a 
great  noise  at  the  door  of  the  apartment.  I  went 
to  see  what  was  the  cause  of  it,  and  found  the  two 
sentinels  fighting.  One  said,  speaking  of  the  King, 
that  he  was  hearty  in  the  cause  of  the  constitution, 
and  would  defend  it  at  the  peril  of  his  life;  the  other 
maintained  that  he  was  an  encumbrance  to  the  only 
constitution  suitable  to  a  free  people.  They  were 
almost  ready  to  cut  one  another's  throats.  I  returned 
with  a  countenance  which  betrayed  my  emotion.  The 
King  desired  to  know  what  was  going  forward  at  his 
door;  I  could  not  conceal  it  from  him.  The  Queen 
said  she  was  not  at  all  surprised  at  it,  and  that  more 
than  half  the  guard  belonged  to  the  Jacobin  party. 

The  toscin  sounded  at  midnight.     The  Swiss  were 
drawn  up  like  walls;  and  in  the  midst  of  their  soldier- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  345 

like  silence,  which  formed  a  striking  contrast  with  the 
perpetual  din  of  the  town  guard,  the  King  informed 

M.  de  J ,  an  officer  of  the  staff,  of  the  plan  of 

defence    laid    down    by    General    Viomenil.      M.    de 

J said  to  me,  after  this  private  conference,  "  Put 

your  jewels  and  money  into  your  pockets;  our  dan- 
gers are  unavoidable;  the  means  of  defence  are  nil; 
safety  might  be  obtained  by  some  degree  of  energy 
in  the  King,  but  that  is  the  only  virtue  in  which  he 
is  deficient." 

An  hour  after  midnight  the  Queen  and  Madame 
Elisabeth  said  they  would  lie  down  on  a  sofa  in  a 
room  in  the  entresols,  the  windows  of  which  com- 
manded the  courtyard  of  the  Tuileries. 

The  Queen  told  me  the  King  had  just  refused  to 
put  on  his  quilted  under- waiscoat;  that  he  had  con- 
sented to  wear  it  on  the  14th  of  July  because  he  was 
merely  going  to  a  ceremony  where  the  blade  of  an 
assassin  was  to  be  apprehended;  but  that  on  a  day 
on  which  his  party  might  fight  against  the  revolu- 
tionists he  thought  there  was  something  cowardly  in 
preserving  his  life  by  such  means. 

During  this  time  Madame  Elisabeth  disengaged 
herself  from  some  of  her  clothing  which  encumbered 
her  in  order  to  lie  down  on  the  sofa :  she  took  a 
cornelian  pin  out  of  her  cape,  and  before  she  laid  it 
down  on  the  table  she  showed  it  to  me,  and  desired 
me  to  read  a  motto  engraved  upon  it  round  a  stalk 
of  lilies.  The  words  were,  "  Oblivion-  of  injuries; 
pardon  for  offences."  "  I  much  fear,"  added  that 
virtuous  Princess,  "  this  maxim  has  but  little  influ- 
ence among  our  enemies;  but  it  ought  not  to  be  less 
dear  to  us  on  that  account." 

The  Queen  desired  me  to  sit  down  by  her;  the 
two  Princesses  could  not  sleep;  they  were  convers- 
ing mournfully  upon  their  situation  when  a  musket 


346  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

was  discharged  in  the  courtyard.  They  both  quitted 
the  sofa,  saving,  "  There  is  the  first  shot,  unfortunately 
it  will  not  be  the  last;  let  us  go  up  to  the  King." 
The  Queen  desired  me  to  follow  her;  several  of  her 
women  went  with  me. 

At  four  o'clock  the  Queen  came  out  of  the  King's 
chamber  and  told  us  she  had  no  longer  any  hope; 
that  M.  Mandat,  who  had  gone  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville 
to  receive  further  orders,  had  just  been  assassinated, 
and  that  the  people  were  at  that  time  carrying  his 
head  about  the  streets.  Day  came.  The  King,  the 
Queen,  Madame  Elisabeth,  Madame,  and  the  Dauphin 
went  down  to  pass  through  the  ranks  of  the  sections 
of  the  National  Guard;  the  cry  of  "Vive  le  Roi!" 
was  heard  from  a  few  places.  I  was  at  a  window 
on  the  garden  side;  I  saw  some  of  the  gunners  quit 
their  posts,  go  up  to  the  King,  and  thrust  their  fists 
in  his  face,  insulting  him  by  most  brutal  language. 
Messieurs  de  Salvert  and  de  Bridges  drove  them  off  in 
a  spirited  manner.  The  King  was  as  pale  as  a  corpse. 
The  royal  family  came  in  again.  The  Queen  told  me 
that  all  was  lost;  that  the  King  had  shown  no  energy; 
and  that  this  sort  of  review  had  done  more  harm  than 
good. 

I  was  in  the  billiard-room  with  my  companions; 
we  placed  ourselves  upon  some  high  benches.  I  then 
saw  M.  d'Hervilly  with  a  drawn  sword  in  his  hand, 
ordering  the  usher  to  open  the  door  to  the  French 
noblesse.  Two  hundred  persons  entered  the  room 
nearest  to  that  in  which  the  family  were;  others 
drew  up  in  two  lines  in  the  preceding  rooms.  I 
saw  a  few  people  belonging  to  the  Court,  many 
others  whose  features  were  unknown  to  me,  and  a 
few  who  figured  technically  without  right  among 
what  was  called  the  noblesse,  but  whose  self-devo- 
tion   ennobled    them    at    once.      They    were    all    so 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  347 

t>adly  armed  that  even  in  that  situation  the  indom- 
itable French  liveliness  indulged  in  jests.  M.  de 
Saint-Souplet,  one  of  the  King's  equerries,  and  a 
page,  carried  on  their  shoulders  instead  of  muskets 
the  tongs  belonging  to  the  King's  antechamber,  which 
they  had  broken  and  divided  between  them.  Another 
page,  who  had  a  pocket-pistol  in  his  hand,  stuck  the 
end  of  it  against  the  back  of  the  person  who  stood 
before  him,  and  who  begged  he  would  be  good  enough 
to  rest  it  elsewhere.  A  sword  and  a  pair  of  pistols 
were  the  only  arms  of  those  who  had  had  the  precau- 
tion to  provide  themselves  with  arms  at  all.  Mean- 
while, the  numerous  bands  from  the  faubourgs,  armed 
with  pikes  and  cutlasses,  filled  the  Carrousel  and  the 
streets  adjacent  to  the  Tuileries.  The  sanguinary 
Marseillais  were  at  their  head,  with  cannon  pointed 
against  the  Chateau.  In  this  emergency  the  King's 
Council  sent  M.  Dejoly,  the  Minister  of  Justice,  to  the 
Assembly  to  request  they  would  send  the  King  a  depu- 
tation which  might  serve  as  a  safeguard  to  the  execu- 
tive power.  His  ruin  was  resolved  on;  they  passed 
to  the  order  of  the  day.  At  eight  o'clock  the  depart- 
ment repaired  to  the  Chateau.  The  procureur-syndic, 
seeing  that  the  guard  within  was  ready  to  join  the 
assailants,  went  into  the  King's  closet  and  requested 
to  speak  to  him  in  private.  The  King  received  him 
in  his  chamber;  the  Queen  was  with  him.  There  M. 
Rcederer  told  him  that  the  King,  all  his  family,  and 
the  people  about  them  would  inevitably  -perish  unless 
his  Majesty  immediately  determined  to  go  to  the  Na- 
tional Assembly.  The  Queen  at  first  opposed  this 
advice,  but  the  procureur-syndic  told  her  that  she 
rendered  herself  responsible  for  the  deaths  of  the 
King,  her  children,  and  all  who  were  in  the  palace. 
She  no  longer  objected.  The  King  then  consented  to 
go  to  the  Assembly.     As  he  set  out,  he  said  to  the 


348  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

minister  and  persons  who  surrounded  him,  "  Come, 
gentlemen,  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  done  here." 
The  Queen  said  to  me  as  she  left  the  King's  chamber, 
"Wait  in  my  apartments;  I  will  come  to  you,  or  I 
will  send  for  you  to  go  I  know  not  whither."  She 
took  with  her  only  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe  and  Ma- 
dame de  Tourzel.  The  Princesse  de  Tarente  and 
Madame  de  la  Roche-Aymon  were  inconsolable  at  be- 
ing left  at  the  Tuileries;  they,  and  all  who  belonged  to 
the  chamber,  went  down  into  the  Queen's  apartments. 

We  saw  the  royal  family  pass  between  two  lines 
formed  by  the  Swiss  grenadiers  and  those  of  the 
battalions  of  the  Petits-Peres  and  the  Filles  Saint 
Thomas.  They  were  so  pressed  upon  by  the  crowd 
that  during  that  short  passage  the  Queen  was  robbed 
of  her  watch  and  purse.  A  man  of  great  height  and 
horrible  appearance,  one  of  such  as  were  to  be  seen  at 
the  head  of  all  the  insurrections,  drew  near  the  Dau- 
phin, whom  the  Queen  was  leading  by  the  hand,  and 
took  him  up  in  his  arms.  The  Queen  uttered  a  scream 
of  terror,  and  was  ready  to  faint.  The  man  said  to 
her,  "  Don't  be  frightened,  I  will  do  him  no  harm;" 
and  he  gave  him  back  to  her  at  the  entrance  of  the 
chamber. 

I  leave  to  history  all  the  details  of  that  too  mem- 
orable day,  confining  myself  to  recalling  a  few  of  the 
frightful  scenes  acted  in  the  interior  of  the  Tuileries 
after  the  King  had  quitted  the  palace. 

The  assailants  did  not  know  that  the  King  and 
his  family  had  betaken  themselves  to  the  Assembly; 
and  those  who  defended  the  palace  from  the  side  of 
the  courts  were  equally  ignorant  of  it.  It  is  supposed 
that  if  they  had  been  aware  of  the  fact  the  siege  would 
never  have  taken  place. 

The  Marseillais  began  by  driving  from  their  posts 
several  Swiss,  who  yielded  without  resistance;  a  few 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  349 

of  the  assailants  fired  upon  them;  some  of  the  Swiss 
officers,  seeing  their  men  fall,  and  perhaps  thinking  the 
King  was  still  at  the  Tuileries,  gave  the  word  to  a 
whole  battalion  to  fire.  The  aggressors  were  thrown 
into  disorder,  and  the  Carrousel  was  cleared  in  a 
moment;  but  they  soon  returned,  spurred  on  by  rage 
and  revenge.  The  Swiss  were  but  eight  hundred 
strong;  they  fell  back  into  the  interior  of  the  Chateau; 
some  of  the  doors  were  battered  in  by  the  guns,  others 
broken  through  with  hatchets;  the  populace  rushed 
from  all  quarters  into  the  interior  of  the  palace;  al- 
most all  the  Swiss  were  massacred;  the  nobles,  flying 
through  the  gallery  which  leads  to  the  Louvre,  were 
either  stabbed  or  shot,  and  the  bodies  thrown  out  of 
the  windows. 

M.  Pallas  and  M.  de  Marchais,  ushers  of  the  King's 
chamber,  were  killed  in  defending  the  door  of  the 
council  chamber;  many  others  of  the  King's  servants 
fell  victims  to  their  fidelity.  I  mention  these  two 
persons  in  particular  because,  with  their  hats  pulled 
over  their  brows  and  their  swords  in  their  hands,  they 
exclaimed,  as  they  defended  themselves  with  unavail- 
ing courage,  "  We  will  not  survive!' — this  is  our  post; 
our  duty  is  to  die  at  it."  M.  Diet  behaved  in  the  same 
manner  at  the  door  of  the  Queen's  bedchamber;  he 
experienced  the  same  fate.  The  Princesse  de  Tarente 
had  fortunately  opened  the  door  of  the  apartments; 
otherwise,  the  dreadful  band  seeing  several  women 
collected  in  the  Queen's  salon  would  have  'fancied  she 
was  among  us,  and  would  have  immediately  massacred 
us  had  we  resisted  them.  We  were,  indeed,  all  about 
to  perish,  when  a  man  with  a  long  beard  came  up, 
exclaiming,  in  the  name  of  Petion,  "  Spare  the  women; 
don't  dishonour  the  nation !  "  A  particular  circum- 
stance placed  me  in  greater  danger  than  the  others. 
In  my  confusion  I  imagined,  a  moment  before  the 


350  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

assailants  entered  the  Queen's  apartments,  that  my 
sister  was  not  among  the  group  of  women  collected 
there;  and  I  went  up  into  an  entresol,  where  I  supposed 
she  had  taken  refuge,  to  induce  her  to  come  down, 
fancying  it  safer  that  we  should  not  be  separated.  I 
did  not  find  her  in  the  room  in  question;  I  saw  there 
only  our  two  femmes  de  chambre  and  one  of  the 
Queen's  two  heyducs,  a  man  of  great  height  and  mili- 
tary aspect.  I  saw  that  he  was  pale,  and  sitting  on 
a  bed.  I  cried  out  to  him,  "Fly!  the  footmen  and 
our  people  are  already  safe."  "  I  cannot,"  said  the 
man  to  me;  "  I  am  dying  of  fear."  As  he  spoke  I 
heard  a  number  of  men  rushing  hastily  up  the  stair- 
case; they  threw  themselves  upon  him,  and  I  saw  him 
assassinated. 

I  ran  towards  the  staircase,  followed  by  our  women. 
The  murderers  left  the  hcyduc  to  come  to  me.  The 
women  threw  themselves  at  their  feet,  and  held  their 
sabres.  The  narrowness  of  the  staircase  impeded  the 
assassins;  but  I  had  already  felt  a  horrid  hand  thrust 
into  my  back  to  seize  me  by  my  clothes,  when  some 
one  called  out  from  the  bottom  of  the  staircase, 
"  What  are  you  doing  above  there  ?  We  don't  kill 
women."  I  was  on  my  knees;  my  executioner  quitted 
his  hold  of  me,  and  said,  "  Get  up,  you  jade;  the  na- 
tion pardons  you." 

The  brutality  of  these  words  did  not  prevent  my 
suddenly  experiencing  an  indescribable  feeling  which 
partook  almost  equally  of  the  love  of  life  and  the  idea' 
that  I  was  going  to  see  my  son,  and  all  that  was  dear 
to  me,  again.  A  moment  before  I  had  thought  less 
of  death  than  of  the  pain  which  the  steel,  suspended 
over  my  head,  would  occasion  me.  Death  is  seldom 
seen  so  close  without  striking  his  blow.  I  heard  every 
syllable  uttered  by  the  assassins,  just  as  if  I  had  been 
calm. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  1351 

Five  or  six  men  seized  me  and  my  companions,  and, 
having  made  us  get  up  on  benches  placed  before  the 
windows,  ordered  us  to  call  out,  "  The  nation  for 
ever!" 

I  passed  over  several  corpses;  I  recognised  that  of 
the  old  Vicomte  de  Broves,  to  whom  the  Queen  had 
sent  me  at  the  beginning  of  the  night  to  desire  him 
and  another  old  man  in  her  name  to  go  home.  These 
brave  men  desired  I  would  tell  her  Majesty  that  they 
had  but  too  strictly  obeyed  the  King's  orders  in  all 
circumstances  under  which  they  ought  to  have  exposed 
their  own  lives  in  order  to  preserve  his;  and  that  for 
this  once  they  would  not  obey,  though  they  would 
cherish  the  recollection  of  the  Queen's  goodness. 

Near  the  grille,  on  the  side  next  the  bridge,  the  men 
who  conducted  me  asked  whither  I  wished  to  go. 
Upon  my  inquiring,  in  my  turn,  whether  they  were  at 
liberty  to  take  me  wherever  I  might  wish  to  go,  one 
of  them,  a  Marseillais,  asked  me,  giving  me  at  the 
same  time  a  push  with  the  butt  end  of  his  musket, 
whether  I  still  doubted  the  power  of  the  people?  I 
answered  "  No,"  and  I  mentioned  the  number  of  my 
brother-in-law's  house.  I  saw  my  sister  ascending  the 
steps  of  the  parapet  of  the  bridge,  surrounded  by  mem- 
bers of  the  National  Guard.  I  called  to  her,  and  she 
turned  round.  "  Would  you  have  her  go  with  you?  " 
said  my  guardian  to  me.  I  told  him  I  did  wish  it. 
They  called  the  people  who  were  leading  my  sister  to 
prison;  she  joined  me. 

Madame  de  la  Roche-Aymon  and  her  daughter, 
Mademoiselle  Pauline  de  Tourzel,  Madame  de  Gine- 
stoux,  lady  to  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe,  the  other 
women  of  the  Queen,  and  the  old  Comte  d'Affry,  were 
led  off  together  to  the  Abbaye. 

Our  progress  from  the  Tuileries  to  my  sister's  house 
was  most  distressing.    We  saw  several  Swiss  pursued 


352  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  killed,  and  musket-shots  were  crossing  each  other 
in  all  directions.  We  passed  under  the  walls  of  the 
Louvre;  they  were  firing  from  the  parapet  into  the 
windows  of  the  gallery,  to  hit  the  knights  of  the  dag- 
ger; for  thus  did  the  populace  designate  those  faithful 
subjects  who  had  assembled  at  the  Tuileries  to  defend 
the  King. 

The  brigands  broke  some  vessels  of  water  in  the 
Queen's  first  antechamber;  the  mixture  of  blood  and 
water  stained  the  skirts  of  our  white  gowns.  The 
poissardes  screamed  after  us  in  the  streets  that  we 
were  attached  to  the  Austrian.  Our  protectors  then 
showed  some  consideration  for  us,  and  made  us  go  up 
a  gateway  to  pull  off  our  gowns;  but  our  petticoats 
being  too  short,  and  making  us  look  like  persons  in 
disguise,  other  poissardes  began  to  bawl  out  that  we 
were  young  Swiss  dressed  up  like  women.  We  then 
saw  a  tribe  of  female  cannibals  enter  the  street,  carry- 
ing the  head  of  poor  Mandat.  Our  guards  made  us 
hastily  enter  a  little  public-house,  called  for  wine,  and 
desired  us  to  drink  with  them.  They  assured  the 
landlady  that  we  were  their  sisters,  and  good  patriots. 
Happily  the  Marseillais  had  quitted  us  to  return  to 
the  Tuileries.  One  of  the  men  who  remained  with 
us  said  to  me  in  a  low  voice :  "  I  am  a  gauze-worker 
in  the  faubourg.  I  was  forced  to  march;  I  am  not 
for  all  this;  I  have  not  killed  anybody,  and  have  res- 
cued you.  You  ran  a  great  risk  when  we  met  the  mad 
women  who  are  carrying  Mandat's  head.  These  hor- 
rible women  said  yesterday  at  midnight,  upon  the  site 
of  the  Bastille,  that  they  must  have  their  revenge  for 
the  6th  of  October,  at  Versailles,  and  that  they  had 
sworn  to  kill  the  Queen  and  all  the  women  attached 
to  her;  the  danger  of  the  action  saved  you  all." 

As  I  crossed  the  Carrousel,  I  saw  my  house  in 
flames;  but  as  soon  as  the  first  moment  of  affright 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  353 

was  over,  I  thought  no  more  of  my  personal  mis- 
fortunes. My  ideas  turned  solely  upon  the  dreadful 
situation  of  the  Queen. 

On  reaching  my  sister's  we  found  all  our  family  in 
despair,  believing  they  should  never  see  us  again.  I 
could  not  remain  in  her  house;  some  of  the  mob,  col- 
lected round  the  door,  exclaimed  that  Marie  Antoi- 
nette's confidante  was  in  the  house,  and  that  they  must 
have  her  head.  I  disguised  myself,  and  was  concealed 
in  the  house  of  M.  Morel,  secretary  for  the  lotteries. 
On  the  morrow  I  was  inquired  for  there,  in  the  name 
of  the  Queen.  A  deputy,  whose  sentiments  were 
known  to  her,  took  upon  himself  to  find  me 
out. 

I  borrowed  clothes,  and  went  with  my  sister  to  the 
Feuillans.  We  got  there  at  the  same  time  with  M. 
Thierry  de  Ville-d'Avray,  the  King's  first  valet  de 
chambre.  We  were  taken  into  an  office,  where  we 
wrote  down  our  names  and  places  of  abode,  and  we 
received  tickets  for  admission  into  the  rooms  belong- 
ing to  Camus,  the  keeper  of  the  Archives,  where  the 
King  was  with  his  family. 

As  we  entered  the  first  room,  a  person  who  was 
there  said  to  me,  "Ah!  you  are  a  brave  woman;  but 
where  is  that  Thierry,  that  man  loaded  with  his 
master's  bounties?"  "  He  is  here,"  said  I;  "he  is 
following  me.  I  perceive  that  even  scenes  of  death 
do  not  banish  jealousy  from  among  you." 

Having  belonged  to  the  Court  from  my  earliest 
youth,  I  was  known  to  many  persons  whom  I  did  not 
know.  As  I  traversed  a  corridor  above  the  cloisters 
which  led  to  the  cells  inhabited  by  the  unfortunate 
Louis  XVI.  and  his  family,  several  of  the  grenadiers 
called  me  by  name.  One  of  them  said  to  me,  "  Well, 
the  poor  King  is  lost!  The  Comte  d'Artois  would 
have  managed  it  better."     "  Not  at  all,"  said  another. 


354  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  royal  family  occupied  a  small  suite  of  apart- 
ments consisting  of  four  cells,  formerly  belonging  to 
the  ancient  monastery  of  the  Feuillans.  In  the  first 
were  the  men  who  had  accompanied  the  King:  the 
Prince  de  Poix,  the  Baron  d'Aubier,  M.  de  Saint- 
Pardou,  equerry  to  Madame  Elisabeth,  MM.  de 
Goguelat,  de  Chamilly,  and  de  Hue.  In  the  second 
we  found  the  King;  he  was  having  his  hair  dressed; 
he  took  two  locks  of  it,  and  gave  one  to  my  sister 
and  one  to  me.  We  offered  to  kiss  his  hand;  he  op- 
posed it,  and  embraced  us  without  saying  anything. 
In  the  third  was  the  Queen,  in  bed,  and  in  indescriba- 
ble affliction.  We  found  her  accompanied  only  by  a 
stout  woman,  who  appeared  tolerably  civil;  she  was 
the  keeper  of  the  apartments.  She  waited  upon  the 
Queen,  who  as  yet  had  none  of  her  own  people  about 
her.  Her  Majesty  stretched  out  her  arms  to  us,  say- 
ing, "  Come,  unfortunate  women;  come,  and  see  one 
still  more  unhappy  than  yourselves,  since  she  has  been 
the  cause  of  all  your  misfortunes.  We  are  ruined," 
continued  she;  "we  have  arrived  at  that  point  to 
which  they  have  been  leading  us  for  three  years, 
through  all  possible  outrages;  we  shall  fall  in  this 
dreadful  revolution,  and  many  others  will  perish  after 
us.  All  have  contributed  to  our  downfall;  the  re- 
formers have  urged  it  like  mad  people,  and  others 
through  ambition,  for  the  wildest  Jacobin  seeks  wealth 
and  office,  and  the  mob  is  eager  for  plunder.  There 
is  not  one  real  patriot  among  all  this  infamous  horde. 
The  emigrant  party  have  their  intrigues  and  schemes; 
foreigners  seek  to  profit  by  the  dissensions  of  France; 
every  one  has  a  share  in  our  misfortunes." 

The  Dauphin  came  in  with  Madame  and  the  Mar- 
quise de  Tourzel.  On  seeing  them  the  Queen  said  to 
me,  "  Poor  children !  how  heartrending  it  is,  instead 
of  handing  down  to  them  so  fine  an  inheritance,  to 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  355 

say  it  ends  with  us!"  She  afterwards  conversed 
with  me  about  the  Tuileries  and  the  persons  who  had 
fallen;  she  condescended  also  to  mention  the  burning 
of  my  house.  I  looked  upon  that  loss  as  a  mischance 
which  ought  not  to  dwell  upon  her  mind,  and  I  told 
her  so.  She  spoke  of  the  Princesse  de  Tarente,  whom 
she  greatly  loved  and  valued,  of  Madame  de  la  Roche- 
Aymon  and  her  daughter,  of  the  other  persons  whom 
she  had  left  at  the  palace,  and  of  the  Duchesse  de 
Luynes,  who  was  to  have  passed  the  night  at  the 
Tuileries.  Respecting  her  she  said,  "  Hers  was  one 
of  the  first  heads  turned  by  the  rage  for  that  mis- 
chievous philosophy;  but  her  heart  brought  her  back, 
and  I  again  found  a  friend  in  her."  I  asked  the 
Queen  what  the  ambassadors  from  foreign  powers  had 
done  under  existing  circumstances.  She  told  me  that 
they  could  do  nothing;  and  that  the  wife  of  the  Eng- 
lish ambassador  had  just  given  her  a  proof  of  the 
personal  interest  she  took  in  her  welfare  by  sending 
her  linen  for  her  son. 

I  informed  her  that,  in  the  pillaging  of  my  house, 
all  my  accounts  with  her  had  been  thrown  into  the 
Carrousel,  and  that  every  sheet  of  my  month's  expend- 
iture was  signed  by  her,  sometimes  leaving  four  or 
five  inches  of  blank  paper  above  her  signature,  a 
circumstance  which  rendered  me  very  uneasy,  from 
an  apprehension  that  an  improper  use  might  be  made 
of  those  signatures.  She  desired  me  to  demand  ad- 
mission to  the  committee  of  general  safety,  and  to 
make  this  declaration  there.  I  repaired  thither 
instantly  and  found  a  deputy,  with  whose  name  I 
have  never  become  acquainted.  After  hearing  me 
he  said  that  he  would  not  receive  my  deposition; 
that  Marie  Antoinette  was  now  nothing  more  than 
any  other  Frenchwoman;  and  that  if  any  of  those 
detached  papers  bearing  her  signature  should  be  mis- 

Vol.  3  Memoirs — 12 


356  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

applied,  she  would  have,  at  a  future  period,  a  right  to 
lodge  a  complaint,  and  to  support  her  declaration  by 
the  facts  which  I  had  just  related.  The  Queen  then 
regretted  having  sent  me,  and  feared  that  she  had,  by 
her  very  caution,  pointed  out  a  method  of  fabricating 
forgeries  which  might  be  dangerous  to  her;  then 
again  she  exclaimed,  "  My  apprehensions  are  as  ab- 
surd as  the  step  I  made  you  take.  They  need  nothing 
more  for  our  ruin;  all  has  been  told." 

She  gave  us  details  of  what  had  taken  place  subse- 
quently to  the  King's  arrival  at  the  Assembly.  They 
are  all  well  known,  and  I  have  no  occasion  to  record 
them;  I  will  merely  mention  that  she  told  us,  though 
with  much  delicacy,  that  she  was  not  a  little  hurt  at 
the  King's  conduct  since  he  had  quitted  the  Tuileries; 
that  his  habit  of  laying  no  restraint  upon  his  great 
appetite  had  prompted  him  to  eat  as  if  he  had  been  at 
his  palace;  that  those  who  did  not  know  him  as  she 
did,  did  not  feel  the  piety  and  the  magnanimity  of  his 
resignation,  all  which  produced  so  bad  an  effect  that 
deputies  who  were  devoted  to  him  had  warned  him  of 
it;  but  no  change  could  be  effected. 

I  still  see  in  imagination,  and  shall  always  see,  that 
narrow  cell  at  the  Feuillans,  hung  with  green  paper, 
that  wretched  couch  whence  the  dethroned  Queen 
stretched  out  her  arms  to  us,  saying  that  our  misfor- 
tunes, of  which  she  was  the  cause,  increased  her  own. 
There,  for  the  last  time,  I  saw  the  tears,  I  heard  the 
sobs  of  her  whom  high  birth,  natural  endowments, 
and,  above  all,  goodness  of  heart,  had  seemed  to  des- 
tine to  adorn  any  throne,  and  be  the  happiness  of  any 
people!  It  is  impossible  for  those  who  lived  with 
Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette  not  to  be  fully  con- 
vinced, while  doing  full  justice  to  the  King's  virtues, 
that  if  the  Queen  had  been  from  the  moment  of  her 
arrival  in  France  the  object  of  the  care  and  affection 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  357 

of  a  prince  of  decision  and  authority,  she  would  have 
only  added  to  the  glory  of  his  reign. 

What  affecting  things  I  have  heard  the  Queen  say 
in  the  affliction  caused  her  by  the  belief  of  part  of 
the  Court  and  the  whole  of  the  people  that  she  did 
not  love  France!  How  did  that  opinion  shock  those 
who  knew  her  heart  and  her  sentiments!  Twice  did 
I  see  her  on  the  point  of  going  from  her  apartments 
in  the  Tuileries  into  the  gardens,  to  address  the  im- 
mense throng  constantly  assembled  there  to  insult  her. 
"  Yes,"  exclaimed  she,  as  she  paced  her  chamber  with 
hurried  steps,  "  I  will  say  to  them :  Frenchmen,  they 
have  had  the  cruelty  to  persuade  you  that  I  do  not 
love  France! — I!  the  mother  of  a  Dauphin  who  will 
reign  over  this  noble  country ! — I !  whom  Providence 
has  seated  upon  the  most  powerful  throne  of  Europe ! 
Of  all  the  daughters  of  Maria  Theresa  am  I  not  that 
one  whom  fortune  has  most  highly  favoured?  And 
ought  I  not  to  feel  all  these  advantages  ?  What  should 
I  find  at  Vienna?  Nothing  but  sepulchres!  What 
should  I  lose  in  France?  Everything  which  can  con- 
fer glory !  " 

I  protest  I  only  repeat  her  own  words;  the  sound- 
ness of  her  judgment  soon  pointed  out  to  her  the  dan- 
gers of  such  a  proceeding.  "  I  should  descend  from 
the  throne,"  said  she,  "  merely,  perhaps,  to  excite  a 
momentary  sympathy,  which  the  factious  would  soon 
render  more  injurious  than  beneficial  to  me." 

Yes,  not  only  did  Marie  Antoinette  love  France, 
but  few  women  took  greater  pride  in  the  courage  of 
Frenchmen.  I  could  adduce  a  multitude  of  proofs  of 
this;  I  will  relate  two  traits  which  demonstrate  the 
noblest  enthusiasm :  The  Queen  was  telling  me  that, 
at  the  coronation  of  the  Emperor  Francis  II.,  that 
Prince,  bespeaking  the  admiration  of  a  French  gen- 
eral officer,  who  was  then  an  emigrant,  for  the  fine 


358  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

appearance  of  his  troops,  said  to  him,  "  There  are  the 
men  to  beat  your  sans  culottes! "  "  That  remains  to 
be  seen,  Sire,"  instantly  replied  the  officer.  The  Queen 
added,  "  I  don't  know  the  name  of  that  brave 
Frenchman,  but  I  will  learn  it;  the  King  ought  to  be 
in  possession  of  it."  As  she  was  reading  the  public 
papers  a  few  days  before  the  ioth  of  August,  she 
observed  that  mention  was  made  of  the  courage  of 
a  young  man  who  died  in  defending  the  flag  he  car- 
ried, and  shouting,  "  Vive  la  Nation!"  "Ah!  the 
fine  lad !  "  said  the  Queen;  "  what  a  happiness  it  would 
have  been  for  us  if  such  men  had  never  left  off  crying, 
'  Vive  le  Roi! '  " 

In  all  that  I  have  hitherto  said  of  this  most  unfor- 
tunate of  women  and  of  queens,  those  who  did  not 
live  with  her,  those  who  knew  her  but  partially,  and 
especially  the  majority  of  foreigners,  prejudiced  by 
infamous  libels,  may  imagine  I  have  thought  it  my 
duty  to  sacrifice  truth  on  the  altar  of  gratitude.  For- 
tunately I  can  invoke  unexceptionable  witnesses;  they 
will  declare  whether  what  I  assert  that  I  have  seen  and 
heard  appears  to  them  either  untrue  or  improbable. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

HE  Queen  having  been  robbed  of  her  purse  as 
she    was    passing    from    the    Tuileries    to    the 
Feuillans,    requested    my    sister    to    lend    her 
twenty-five  louis. 

I  spent  part  of  the  day  at  the  Feuillans,  and  her 
Majesty  told  me  she  would  ask  Petion  to  let  me  be 
with  her  in  the  place  which  -the  Assembly  should 
decree  for  her  prison.  I  then  returned  home  to  pre- 
pare everything  that  might  be  necessary  for  me  to 
accompany  her. 

On  the  same  day  (nth  August),  at  nine  in  the 
evening,  I  returned  to  the  Feuillans.  I  found  there 
were  orders  at  all  the  gates  forbidding  my  being  ad- 
mitted. I  claimed  a  right  to  enter  by  virtue  of  the 
first  permission  which  had  been  given  to  me;  I  was 
again  refused.  I  was  told  that  the  Queen  had  as  many 
people  as  were  requisite  about  her.  My  sister  was 
with  her,  as  well  as  one  of  my  companions,  who  came 
out  of  the  prisons  of  the  Abbaye  on  the  nth.  I  ( 
renewed  my  solicitations  on  the  12th;  my  tears  and 
entreaties  moved  neither  the  keepers  of  the  gates,  nor 
even  a  deputy,  to  whom  I  addressed  myself. 

I  soon  heard  of  the  removal  of  Louis  XVI.  and  his 
family  to  the  Temple.  I  went  to  Petion  accompanied 
by  M.  Valadon,  for  whom  I  had  procured  a  place  in 
the  post-office,  and  who  was  devoted  to  me.  He  de- 
termined to  go  up  to  Petion  alone;  he  told  him  that 
those  who  requested  to  be  confined  could  not  be  sus- 
pected of  evil  designs,  and  that  no  political  opinion 
could  afford  a  ground  of  objection  to  these  solicita- 

359 


360  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

tions.  Seeing  that  the  well-meaning  man  did  not  suc- 
ceed, I  thought  to  do  more  in  person;  but  Petion 
persisted  in  his  refusal,  and  threatened  to  send  me  to 
La  Force.  Thinking  to  give  me  a  kind  of  consolation, 
he  added  I  might  be  certain  that  all  those  who 
were  then  with  Louis  XVI.  and  his  family  would  not 
stay  with  them  long.  And  in  fact,  two  or  three  days 
afterwards  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe,  Madame  de 
Tourzel,  her  daughter,  the  Queen's  first  woman,  the 
first  woman  of  the  Dauphin  and  of  Madame,  M.  de 
Chamilly,  and  M.  de  Hue  were  carried  off  during  the 
night  and  transferred  to  La  Force.  After  the  de- 
parture of  the  King  and  Queen  for  the  Temple,  my 
sister  was  detained  a  prisoner  in  the  apartments  their 
Majesties  had  quitted  for  twenty- four  hours. 

From  this  time  I  was  reduced  to  the  misery  of 
having  no  further  intelligence  of  my  august  and 
unfortunate  mistress  but  through  the  medium  of  the 
newspapers  or  the  National  Guard,  who  did  duty  at 
the  Temple. 

The  King  and  Queen  said  nothing  to  me  at  the 
Feuillans  about  the  portfolio  which  had  been  depos- 
ited with  me;  no  doubt  they  expected  to  see  me 
again.  The  minister  Roland  and  the  deputies  com- 
posing the  provisional  government  were  very  intent 
on  a  search  for  papers  belonging  to  their  Majesties. 
They  had  the  whole  of  the  Tuileries  ransacked. 
The  infamous  Robespierre  bethought  himself  of  M. 
Campan,  the  Queen's  private  secretary,  and  said  that 
his  death  was  feigned;  that  he  was  living  unknown  in 
some  obscure  part  of  France,  and  was  doubtless  the 
depositary  of  all  the  important  papers.  In  a  great 
portfolio  belonging  to  the  King  there  had  been  found 
a  solitary  letter  from  the  Comte  d'Artois,  which,  by 
its  date,  and  the  subjects  of  which  it  treated,  indicated 
the  existence  of  a  continued  correspondence.      (This 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  361 

letter  appeared  among  the  documents  used  on  the  trial 
of  Louis  XVI.)  A  former  preceptor  of  my  son's  had 
studied  with  Robespierre;  the  latter,  meeting  him  in 
the  street,  and  knowing  the  connection  which  had 
subsisted  between  him  and  the  family  of  M.  Campan, 
required  him  to  say,  upon  his  honour,  whether  he  was 
certain  of  the  death  of  the  latter.  The  man  replied 
that  M.  Campan  had  died  at  La  Briche  in  1791,  and 
that  he  had  seen  him  interred  in  the  cemetery  of 
Epinay.  "  Well,  then,"  resumed  Robespierre,  "  bring 
me  the  certificate  of  his  burial  at  twelve  to-morrow; 
it  is  a  document  for  which  I  have  pressing  occasion." 
Upon  hearing  the  deputy's  demand  I  instantly  sent 
for  a  certificate  of  M.  Campan' s  burial,  and  Robes- 
pierre received  it  at  nine  o'clock  the  next  morning. 
But  I  considered  that,  in  thinking  of  my  father-in- 
law,  they  were  coming  very  near  me,  the  real  deposi- 
tary of  these  important  papers.  I  passed  days  and 
nights  in  considering  what  I  could  do  for  the  best 
under  such  circumstances. 

I  was  thus  situated  when  the  order  to  inform 
against  those  who  had  been  denounced  as  suspected 
on  the  10th  of  August  led  to  domiciliary  visits.  My 
servants  were  told  that  the  people  of  the  quarter  in 
which  I  lived  were  talking  much  of  the  search  that 
would  be  made  in  my  house,  and  came  to  apprise  me 
of  it.  I  heard  that  fifty  armed  men  would  make 
themselves  masters  of  M.  Auguie's  house,  where  I 
then  was.  I  had  just  received  this  intelligence  when 
M.  Gougenot,  the  King's  maitre  d'hotel  and  receiver- 
general  of  the  taxes,  a  man  much  attached  to  his 
sovereign,  came  into  my  room  wrapped  in  a  riding- 
cloak,  under  which,  with  great  difficulty,  he  carried 
the  King's  portfolio,  which  I  had  entrusted  to  him. 
He  threw  it  down  at  my  feet,  and  said  to  me,  "  There 
is  your  deposit;  I  did  not  receive  it  from  our  unfor- 


0 


62  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 


tunate  King's  own  hands;   in  delivering  it  to  you  I 
have  executed  my  trust."     After  saying  this  he  was 
about  to  withdraw.     I  stopped  him,  praying  him  to 
consult  with  me  what  I  ought  to  do  in  such  a  trying 
emergency.     He  would  not  listen  to  my  entreaties,  or 
even  hear  me  describe  the  course  I  intended  to  pursue. 
I  told  him  my  abode  was  about  to  be  surrounded;  I 
imparted  to  him  what  the  Queen  had  said  to  me  about 
the  contents  of  the  portfolio.    To  all  this  he  answered, 
"  There  it  is;  decide  for  yourself;  I  will  have  no  hand 
in  it."     Upon  that  I  remained  a  few  seconds  thinking, 
and  my  conduct  was  founded  upon  the  following  rea- 
sons.    I  spoke  aloud,  although  to  myself;   I  walked 
about  the  room  with  agitated  steps;  M.  Gougenot  was 
thunderstruck.      "  Yes/'   said   I,   "  when   we   can   no 
longer  communicate  with  our  King  and  receive  his 
orders,  however  attached  we  may  be  to  him,  we  can 
only  serve  him  according  to  the  best  of  our  own  judg- 
ment.    The  Queen  said  to  me,  '  This  portfolio  con- 
tains   scarcely    anything   but    documents    of    a   most 
dangerous  description  in  the  event  of  a  trial  taking 
place,  if  it  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  revolutionary 
persons.'      She    mentioned,    too,    a    single    document 
which  would,  under  the  same  circumstances,  be  use- 
ful.    It  is  my  duty  to  interpret  her  words,  and  con- 
sider them  as  orders.     She  meant  to  say,  '  You  will 
save  such  a  paper,  you  will  destroy  the  rest  if  they 
are  likely  to  be  taken  from  you.'     If  it  were  not  so, 
was  there  any  occasion  for  her  to  enter  into  any  de- 
tail as  to  what  the  portfolio  contained?     The  order 
to  keep  it  was  sufficient.     Probably  it  contains,  more- 
over, the  letters  of  that  part  of  the  family  which  has 
emigrated;    there    is    nothing   which   may    have   been 
foreseen  or  decided  upon  that  can  be  useful  now;  and 
there  can  be  no  political  thread  which  has  not  been 
cut  by  the  events  of  the  ioth  of  August  and  the  im- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  363 

prisonment  of  the  King.  My  house  is  about  to  be 
surrounded;  I  cannot  conceal  anything  of  such  bulk; 
I  might,  then,  through  want  of  foresight,  give  up 
that  which  would  cause  the  condemnation  of  the  King. 
Let  us  open  the  portfolio,  save  the  document  alluded 
to,  and  destroy  the  rest."  I  took  a  knife  and  cut  open 
one  side  of  the  portfolio.  I  saw  a  great  number  of 
envelopes  endorsed  by  the  King's  own  hand.  M. 
Gougenot  found  there  the  former  seals  of  the  King, 
such  as  they  were  before  the  Assembly  had  changed 
the  inscription.  At  this  moment  we  heard  a  great 
noise;  he  agreed  to  tie  up  the  portfolio,  take  it  again 
under  his  cloak,  and  go  to  a  safe  place  to  execute 
what  I  had  taken  upon  me  to  determine.  He  made  me 
swear,  by  all  I  held  most  sacred,  that  I  would  affirm, 
under  every  possible  emergency,  that  the  course  I  was 
pursuing  had  not  been  dictated  to  me  by  anybody;  and 
that  whatever  might  be  the  result,  I  would  take  all 
the  credit  or  all  the  blame  upon  myself.  I  lifted  up 
my  hand  and  took  the  oath  he  required;  he  went  out. 
Half  an  hour  afterwards  a  great  number  of  armed 
men  came  to  my  house;  they  placed  sentinels  at  all 
the  outlets;  they  broke  open  secretaires  and  closets  of 
which  they  had  not  the  keys;  they  searched  the  flower- 
pots and  boxes;  they  examined  the  cellars;  and  the 
commandant  repeatedly  said,  "  Look  particularly  for 
papers."  In  the  afternoon  M.  Gougenot  returned.  He 
had  still  the  seals  of  France  about  him,  and  he  brought 
me  a  statement  of  all  that  he  had  burnt. 

The  portfolio  contained  twenty  letters  from  Mon- 
sieur, eighteen  or  nineteen  from  the  Comte  d'Artois, 
seventeen  from  Madame  Adelaide,  eighteen  from 
Madame  Victoire,  a  great  many  letters  from  Comte 
Alexandre  de  Lameth,  and  many  from  M.  de  Male- 
sherbes,  with  documents  annexed  to  them.  There 
were  also  some  from  M.  de  Montmorin  and  other  ex- 


364  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

ministers  or  ambassadors.     Each  correspondence  had 
its   title   written   in  the   King's   own  hand   upon  the 
blank  paper  which   contained   it.     The  most  volumi- 
nous was  that  from  Mirabeau.     It  was  tied  up  with  a 
scheme   for  an  escape,   which  he  thought  necessary. 
M.   Gougenot,   who   had   skimmed   over  these  letters 
with  more  attention  than  the  rest,  told  me  they  were 
of  so  interesting  a  nature  that  the  King  had  no  doubt 
kept  them  as  documents  exceedingly  valuable   for  a 
history  of  his  reign,  and  that  the  correspondence  with 
the  Princes,  which  was  entirely  relative  to  what  was 
going    forward    abroad,    in    concert    with    the    King, 
would  have  been  fatal  to  him  if  it  had  been  seized. 
After   he   had   finished   he   placed   in  my   hands   the 
proces-verbal,  signed  by  all  the  ministers,  to  which  the 
King  attached  so  much  importance,  because  he  had 
given  his  opinion  against  the  declaration  of  war;  a 
copy  of  the  letter  written  by  the  King  to  the  Princes, 
his  brothers,  inviting  them  to  return  to   France;   an 
account  of  the  diamonds  which  the  Queen  had  sent  to 
Brussels  (these  two  documents  were  in  my  handwrit- 
ing) ;  and  a  receipt  for  four  hundred  thousand  francs, 
under  the  hand  of  a  celebrated  banker.     This  sum  was 
part  of  the  eight  hundred  thousand  francs  which  the 
Queen  had  gradually  saved  during  her  reign,  out  of 
her   pension   of   three   hundred   thousand    francs  per 
annum,  and  out  of  the  one  hundred  thousand  francs 
given  by  way  of  present  on  the  birth  of  the  Dauphin. 
This  receipt,  written  on  a  very  small  piece  of  paper, 
was  in  the  cover  of  an  almanac.     I  agreed  with  M. 
Gougenot,  who  was  obliged  by  his  office  to  reside  in 
Paris,  that  he  should  retain  the  proces-verbal  of  the 
Council  and  the  receipt  for  the  four  hundred  thousand 
francs,  and  that  we  should  wait  either  for  orders  or 
for  the  means  of  transmitting  these  documents  to  the 
King  or  Queen;  and  I  set  out  for  Versailles. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  365 

The  strictness  of  the  precautions  taken  to  guard  the 
illustrious  prisoners  was  daily  increased.  The  idea 
that  I  could  not  inform  the  King  of  the  course  I  had 
adopted  of  burning  his  papers,  and  the  fear  that  I 
should  not  be  able  to  transmit  to  him  that  which  he 
had  pointed  out  as  necessary,  tormented  me  to  such 
a  degree  that  it  is  wonderful  my  health  endured  the 
strain. 

The  dreadful  trial  drew  near.  Official  advocates 
were  granted  to  the  King;  the  heroic  virtue  of  M.  de 
Malesherbes  induced  him  to  brave  the  most  imminent 
dangers,  either  to  save  his  master  or  to  perish  with 
him.  I  hoped  also  to  be  able  to  find  some  means  of 
informing  his  Majesty  of  what  I  had  thought  it  right 
to  do.  I  sent  a  man,  on  whom  I  could  rely,  to  Paris, 
to  request  M.  Gougenot  to  come  to  me  at  Versailles: 
he  came  immediately.  We  agreed  that  he  should  see 
M.  de  Malesherbes  without  availing  himself  of  any 
intermediate  person  for  that  purpose. 

M.  Gougenot  awaited  his  return  from  the  Temple 
at  the  door  of  his  hotel,  and  made  a  sign  that  he 
wished  to  speak  to  him.  A  moment  afterwards  a  serv- 
ant came  to  introduce  him  into  the  magistrates'  room. 
He  imparted  to  M.  de  Malesherbes  what  I  had  thought 
it  right  to  do  with  respect  to  the  King's  papers,  and 
placed  in  his  hands  the  proces-verbal  of  the  Council, 
which  his  Majesty  had  preserved  in  order  to  serve, 
if  occasion  required  it,  for  a  ground  of  his  defence. 
However,  that  paper  is  not  mentioned  in  either  of  the 
speeches  of  his  advocates;  probably  it  was  determined 
not  to  make  use  of  it. 

I  stop  at  that  terrible  period  which  is  marked  by 
the  assassination  of  a  King  whose  virtues  are  well 
known;  but  I  cannot  refrain  from  relating  what  he 
deigned  to  say  in  my  favour  to  M.  de  Malesherbes : 
"  Let  Madame  Campan  know  that   she  did  what   I 


366  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

should  myself  have  ordered  her  to  do;  I  thank  her 
for  it ;  she  is  one  of  those  whom  I  regret  I  have  it 
not  in  my  power  to  recompense  for  their  fidelity  to 
my  person,  and  for  their  good  services."  I  did  not 
hear  of  this  until  the  morning  after  he  had  suffered, 
and  I  think  I  should  have  sunk  under  my  despair 
if  this  honourable  testimony  had  not  given  me  some 
consolation. 

Supplement  to  Chapter  XXIII 

Madame  Campan's  narrative  breaking  off  abruptly 
at  the  time  of  the  painful  end  met  with  by  her  sister, 
we  have  supplemented  it  by  abridged  accounts  of  the 
chief  incidents  in  the  tragedy  which  overwhelmed 
the  royal  house  she  so  faithfully  served,  taken 
from  contemporary  records  and  the  best  historical 
authorities. 

The  Royal  Family  in  the  Temple 

The  Assembly  having,  at  the  instance  of  the  Com- 
mune of  Paris,  decreed  that  the  royal  family  should 
be  immured  in  the  Temple,  they  were  removed  thither 
from  the  Feuillans  on  the  13th  of  August,  1792,  in 
the  charge  of  Petion,  Mayor  of  Paris,  and  Santerre, 
the  commandant-general.  Twelve  Commissioners  of 
the  general  council  were  to  keep  constant  watch  at 
the  Temple,  which  had  been  fortified  by  earth-works 
and  garrisoned  by  detachments  of  the  National  Guard, 
no  person  being  allowed  to  enter  without  permission 
from  the  municipality. 

The  Temple,  formerly  the  headquarters  of  the 
Knights  Templars  in  Paris,  consisted  of  two  build- 
jngS> — the  Palace,  facing  the  Rue  de  Temple,  usually 
occupied  by  one  of  the  Princes  of  the  blood;  and  the 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  367 

Tower,  standing  behind  the  Palace.  The  Tower  was 
a  square  building,  with  a  round  tower  at  each  corner 
and  a  small  turret  on  one  side,  usually  called  the 
Tourelle.  In  the  narrative  of  the  Duchesse  d'Angou- 
leme  she  says  that  the  soldiers  who  escorted  the  royal 
prisoners  wished  to  take  the  King  alone  to  the  Tower, 
and  his  family  to  the  Palace  of  the  Temple,  but  that 
on  the  way  Manuel  received  an  order  to  imprison 
them  all  in  the  Tower,  where  so  little  provision  had 
been  made  for  their  reception  that  Madame  Elisabeth 
slept  in  the  kitchen.  The  royal  family  were  accom- 
panied by  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe,  Madame  de 
Tourzel  and  her  daughter  Pauline,  Mesdames  de 
Navarre,  de  Saint-Brice,  Thibaut,  and  Bazire,  MM. 
de  Hue  and  de  Chamilly,  and  three  men-servants.  An 
order  from  the  Commune  'soon  removed  these  devoted 
attendants,  and  M.  de  Hue  alone  was  permitted  to 
return.  "  We  all  passed  the  day  together,"  says  Ma- 
dame Royale.  "  My  father  taught  my  brother  geog- 
raphy; my  mother  history,  and  to  learn  verses  by 
heart;  and  my  aunt  gave  him  lessons  in  arithmetic. 
My  father  fortunately  found  a  library  which  amused 
him,  and  my  mother  worked  tapestry.  .  .  .  We 
went  every  day  to  walk  in  the  garden,  for  the  sake 
of  my  brother's  health,  though  the  King  was  always 
insulted  by  the  guard.  On  the  Feast  of  Saint  Louis 
'  Ca  Ira '  was  sung  under  the  walls  of  the  Temple. 
Manuel  that  evening  brought  my  aunt  a  letter  from 
her  aunts  at  Rome.  It  was  the  last  the  family  received 
from  without.  My  father  was  no  longer  called  King. 
He  was  treated  with  no  kind  of  respect;  the  officers 
always  sat  in  his  presence  and  never  took  off  their 
hats.  They  deprived  him  of  his  sword  and  searched 
his  pockets.  .  .  .  Petion  sent  as  gaoler  the  horrible 
man  who  had  broken  open  my  father's  door  on  the 
20th  June,  1792,  and  who  had  been  near  assassinating 


368  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

him.  This  man  never  left  the  Tower,  and  was  in- 
defatigable in  endeavouring  to  torment  him.  One 
time  he  would  sing  the  '  Carmagnole,'  and  a  thousand 
other  horrors,  before  us;  again,  knowing  that  my 
mother  disliked  the  smoke  of  tobacco,  he  would  puff 
it  in  her  face,  as  well  as  in  that  of  my  father,  as  they 
happened  to  pass  him.  He  took  care  always  to  be 
in  bed  before  we  went  to  supper,  because  he  knew  that 
we  must  pass  through  his  room.  My  father  suffered 
it  all  with  gentleness,  forgiving  the  man  from  the 
bottom  of  his  heart.  My  mother  bore  it  with  a  dig- 
nity that  frequently  repressed  his  insolence."  The 
only  occasion,  Madame  Royale  adds,  on  which  the 
Queen  showed  any  impatience  at  the  conduct  of  the 
officials,  was  when  a  municipal  officer  woke  the  Dau- 
phin suddenly  in  the  night  to  make  certain  that  he 
was  safe,  as  though  the  sight  of  the  peacefully  sleep- 
ing child  would  not  have  been  in  itself  the  best 
assurance. 

Clery,  the  valet  de  chambre  of  the  Dauphin,  having 
with  difficulty  obtained  permission  to  resume  his 
duties,  entered  the  Temple  on  the  24th  August,  and 
for  eight  days  shared  with  M.  de  Hue  the  personal 
attendance;  but  on  the  2d  September  De  Hue  was 
arrested,  seals  were  placed  on  the  little  room  he  had 
occupied,  and  Clery  passed  the  night  in  that  of  the 
King.  On  the  following  morning  Manuel  arrived, 
charged  by  the  Commune  to  inform  the  King  that 
De  Hue  would  not  be  permitted  to  return,  and  to  offer 
to  send  another  person.  "  I  thank  you,"  answered 
the  King.  "  I  will  manage  with  the  valet  de  chambre 
of  my  son;  and  if  the  Council  refuse  I  will  serve  my- 
self. I  am  determined  to  do  it."  On  the  3d  Sep- 
tember Manuel  visited  the  Temple  and  assured  the 
King  that  Madame  de  Lamballe  and  all  the  other 
prisoners  who  had  been  removed  to  La  Force  were 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  .369 

well,  and  safely  guarded.  "  But  at  three  o'clock," 
says  Madame  Royale,  "  just  after  dinner,  and  as  the 
King  was  sitting  down  to  tric-trac  with  my  mother 
(which  he  played  for  the  purpose  of  having  an  oppor- 
tunity of  saying  a  few  words  to  her  unheard  by  the 
keepers),  the  most  horrid  shouts  were  heard.  The 
officer  who  happened  to  be  on  guard  in  the  room 
behaved  well.  He  shut  the  door  and  the  window, 
and  even  drew  the  curtains  to  prevent  their  seeing 
anything;  but  outside  the  workmen  and  the  gaoler 
Rocher  joined  the  assassins  and  increased  the  tumult. 
Several  officers  of  the  guard  and  the  municipality 
now  arrived,  and  on  my  father's  asking  what  was  the 
matter,  a  young  officer  replied,  '  Well,  since  you  will 
know,  it  is  the  head  of  Madame  de  Lamballe  that  they 
want  to  show  you.'  At  these  words  my  mother  was 
overcome  with  horror;  it  was  the  only  occasion  on 
which  her  firmness  abandoned  her.  The  municipal 
officers  were  very  angry  with  the  young  man;  but  the 
King,  with  his  usual  goodness,  excused  him,  saying 
that  it  was  his  own  fault,  since  he  had  questioned  the 
officer.  The  noise  lasted  till  five  o'clock.  We  learned 
that  the  people  had  wished  to  force  the  door,  and  that 
the  municipal  officers  had  been  enabled  to  prevent 
it  only  by  putting  a  tricoloured  scarf  across  it,  and 
allowing  six  of  the  murderers  to  march  round  our 
prison  with  the  head  of  the  Princess,  leaving  at  the 
door  her  body,  which  they  would  have  dragged  in 
also." 

Clery  was  not  so  fortunate  as  to  escape  the  fright- 
ful spectacle.  He  had  gone  down  to  dine  with  Tison 
and  his  wife,  employed  as  servants  in  the  Temple, 
and  says :  "  We  were  hardly  seated  when  a  head,  on 
the  end  of  a  pike,  was  presented  at  the  window. 
Tison's  wife  gave  a  great  cry;  the  assassins  fancied 
they  recognised  the  Queen's  voice,  and  responded  by 


37o  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

savage  laughter.  Under  the  idea  that  his  Majesty 
was  still  at  table,  they  placed  their  dreadful  trophy 
where  it  must  be  seen.  It  was  the  head  of  the  Prin- 
cesse  de  Lamballe;  although  bleeding,  it  was  not 
disfigured,  and  her  light  hair,  still  in  curls,  hung 
about  the  pike." 

At  length  the  immense  mob  that  surrounded  the 
Temple  gradually  withdrew,  "  to  follow  the  head  of 
the  Princesse  de  Lamballe  to  the  Palais  Royal."  Mean- 
while the  royal  family  could  scarcely  believe  that  for 
the  time  their  lives  were  saved.  "  My  aunt  and  I 
heard  the  drums  beating  to  arms  all  night,"  says  Ma- 
dame Royale;  "my  unhappy  mother  did  not  even  at- 
tempt to  sleep.     We  heard  her  sobs." 

In  the  comparative  tranquillity  which  followed  the 
September  massacres,  the  royal  family  resumed  the 
regular  habits  they  had  adopted  on  entering  the  Tem- 
ple. "  The  King  usually  rose  at  six  in  the  morning," 
says  Clery.  "  He  shaved  himself,  and  I  dressed  his 
hair;  he  then  went  to  his  reading-room,  which,  being 
very  small,  the  municipal  officer  on  duty  remained  in 
the  bedchamber  with  the  door  open,  that  he  might 
always  keep  the  King  in  sight.  His  Majesty  continued 
praying  on  his  knees  for  some  time,  and  then  read  till 
nine.  During  that  interval,  after  putting  his  cham- 
ber to  rights  and  preparing  the  breakfast,  I  went 
down  to  the  Queen,  who  never  opened  her  door  till 
I  arrived,  in  order  to  prevent  the  municipal  officer 
from  going  into  her  apartment.  At  nine  o'clock  the 
Queen,  the  children,  and  Madame  Elisabeth  went  up 
to  the  King's  chamber  to  breakfast.  At  ten  the  King 
and  his  family  went  down  to  the  Queen's  chamber, 
and  there  passed  the  day.  He  employed  himself 
in  educating  his  son,  made  him  recite  passages  from 
Corneille  and  Racine,  gave  him  lessons  in  geography, 
and  exercised  him  in  colouring  the  maps.    The  Queen, 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  371 

on  her  part,  was  employed  in  the  education  of  her 
daughter,  and  these  different  lessons  lasted  till  eleven 
o'clock.  The  remaining  time  till  noon  was  passed 
in  needlework,  knitting,  or  making  tapestry.  At 
one  o'clock,  when  the  weather  was  fine,  the  royal 
family  were  conducted  to  the  garden  by  four  munici- 
pal officers  and  the  commander  of  a  legion  of  the 
National  Guard.  •  As  there  were  a  number  of  work- 
men in  the  Temple  employed  in  pulling  down  houses 
and  building  new  walls,  they  only  allowed  a  part 
of  the  chestnut-tree  walk  for  the  promenade,  in  which 
I  was  allowed  to  share,  and  where  I  also  played  with 
the  young  Prince  at  ball,  quoits,  or  races.  At  two 
we  returned  to  the  Tower,  where  I  served  the  dinner, 
at  which  time  Santerre  regularly  came  to  the  Temple, 
attended  by  two  aides-de-camp.  The  King  sometimes 
spoke  to  him, — the  Queen  never. 

"  After  the  meal  the  royal  family  came  down  into 
the  Queen's  room,  and  their  Majesties  generally 
played  a  game  of  piquet  or  tric-trac.  At  four  o'clock 
the  King  took  a  little  repose,  the  Princesses  round  him, 
each  with  a  book.  .  .  .  When  the  King  woke  the 
conversation  was  resumed,  and  I  gave  writing  lessons 
to  his  son,  taking  the  copies,  according  to  his  instruc- 
tions, from  the  works  of  Montesquieu  and  other  cele- 
brated authors.  After  the  lesson  I  took  the  young 
Prince  into  Madame  Elisabeth's  room,  where  we 
played  at  ball,  and  battledore  and  shuttlecock.  In 
the  evening  the  family  sat  round  a  table,  while  the 
Queen  read  to  them  from  books  of  history,  or  other 
works  proper  to  instruct  and  amuse  the  children. 
Madame  Elisabeth  took  the  book  in  her  turn,  and 
in  this  manner  they  read  till  eight  o'clock.  After 
that  I  served  the  supper  of  the  young  Prince,  in 
which  the  royal  family  shared,  and  the  King  amused 
the    children    with    charades    out    of    a    collection   of 


372  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

French  papers  which  he  found  in  the  library.  After 
the  Dauphin  had  supped,  I  undressed  him,  and  the 
Queen  heard  him  say  his  prayers.  At  nine  the  King 
went  to  supper,  and  afterwards  went  for  a  moment  to 
the  Queen's  chamber,  shook  hands  with  her  and  his 
sister  for  the  night,  kissed  his  children,  and  then  re- 
tired to  the  turret-room,  where  he  sat  reading  till  mid- 
night. The  Queen  and  the  Princesses  locked  themselves 
in,  and  one  of  the  municipal  officers  remained  in  the 
little  room  which  parted  their  chamber,  where  he 
passed  the  night;  the  other  followed  his  Majesty. 
In  this  manner  was  the  time  passed  as  long  as  the 
King  remained  in  the  small  tower." 

But  even  these  harmless  pursuits  were  too  often 
made  the  means  of  further  insulting  and  thwarting 
the  unfortunate  family.  Commissary  Le  Clerc  inter- 
rupted the  Prince's  writing  lessons,  proposing  to  sub- 
stitute Republican  works  for  those  from  which  the 
King  selected  his  copies.  A  smith,  who  was  present 
when  the  Queen  was  reading  the  history  of  France  to 
her  children,  denounced  her  to  the  Commune  for 
choosing  the  period  when  the  Connetable  de  Bour- 
bon took  arms  against  France,  and  said  she  wished 
to  inspire  her  son  with  unpatriotic  feelings;  a  munici- 
pal officer  asserted  that  the  multiplication  table  the 
Prince  was  studying  would  afford  a  means  of  "  speak- 
ing in  cipher,"  so  arithmetic  had  to  be  abandoned. 
Much  the  same  occurred  even  with  the  needlework: 
the  Queen  and  Princess  finished  some  chairbacks, 
which  they  wished  to  send  to  the  Duchesse  de 
Tarente;  but  the  officials  considered  that  the  patterns 
were  hieroglyphics,  intended  for  carrying  on  a  cor- 
respondence, and  ordered  that  none  of  the  Princesses' 
work  should  leave  the  Temple.  The  short  daily  walk 
in  the  garden  was  also  embittered  by  the  rude  be- 
haviour of  the  military  and  municipal  gaolers;  some- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  373 

times,  however,  it  afforded  an  opportunity  for  marks 
of  sympathy  to  be  shown.  People  would  station 
themselves  at  the  windows  of  houses  overlooking  the 
Temple  gardens,  and  evince  by  gestures  their  loyal 
affection,  and  some  of  the  sentinels  showed,  even  by 
tears,  that  their  duty  was  painful  to  them. 

On  the  2 1  st  September  the  National  Convention 
was  constituted,  Petion  being  made  president  and 
Collot  d'Herbois  moving  the  "  abolition  of  royalty  " 
amidst  transports  of  applause.  That  afternoon  a 
municipal  officer  attended  by  gendarmes  a  cheval, 
and  followed  by  a  crowd  of  people,  arrived  at  the 
Temple,  and,  after  a  flourish  of  trumpets,  proclaimed 
the  establishment  of  the  French  Republic.  The  man, 
says  Clery,  "  had  the  voice  of  a  Stentor."  The  royal 
family  could  distinctly  hear  the  announcement  of  the 
King's  deposition.  "  Hebert,  so  well  known  under 
the  title  of  Pere  Duchesne,  and  Destournelles  were 
on  guard.  They  were  sitting  near  the  door,  and 
turned  to  the  King  with  meaning  smiles.  He  had 
a  book  in  his  hand,  and  went  on  reading  without 
changing  countenance.  The  Queen  showed  the  same 
firmness.  The  proclamation  finished,  the  trumpets 
sounded  afresh.  I  went  to  the  window;  the  people 
took  me  for  Louis  XVI.,  and  I  was  overwhelmed  with 
insults." 

After  the  new  decree  the  prisoners  were  treated 
with  increased  harshness.  Pens,  paper,  ink,  and  pen- 
cils were  taken  from  them.  The  King  and  Madame 
Elisabeth  gave  up  all,  but  the  Queen  and  her  daugh- 
ter each  concealed  a  pencil.  "  In  the  beginning  of 
October,"  says  Madame  Royale,  "  after  my  father  had 
supped,  he  was  told  to  stop,  that  he  was  not  to  re- 
turn to  his  former  apartments,  and  that  he  was  to  be 
separated  from  his  family.  At  this  dreadful  sen- 
tence the  Queen  lost  her  usual  courage.     We  parted 


374  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

from  him  with  abundance  of  tears,  though  we  ex- 
pected to  see  him  again  in  the  morning.  They  brought 
in  our  breakfast  separately  from  his,  however.  My 
mother  would  take  nothing.  The  officers,  alarmed 
at  her  silent  and  concentrated  sorrow,  allowed  us  to 
see  the  King,  but  at  meal-times  only,  and  on  condi- 
tion that  we  should  not  speak  low,  nor  in  any  foreign 
language,  but  loud  and  in  '  good  French.'  We  went 
down,  therefore,  with  the  greatest  joy  to  dine  with 
my  father.  In  the  evening,  when  my  brother  was  in 
bed,  my  mother  and  my  aunt  alternately  sat  with 
him  or  went  with  me  to  sup  with  my  father.  In  the 
morning,  after  breakfast,  we  remained  in  the  King's 
apartments  while  Clery  dressed  our  hair,  as  he  was 
no  longer  allowed  to  come  to  my  mother's  room,  and 
this  arrangement  gave  us  the  pleasure  of  spending  a 
few  moments  more  with  my  father." 

The  royal  prisoners  had  no  comfort  except  their 
affection  for  each  other.  At  that  time  even  common 
necessaries  were  denied  them.  Their  small  stock  of 
linen  had  been  lent  them  by  persons  of  the  Court 
during  the  time  they  spent  at  the  Feuillans.  The 
Princesses  mended  their  clothes  every  day,  and  after 
the  King  had  gone  to  bed  Madame  Elisabeth  mended 
his.  "  With  much  trouble,"  says  Clery,  "  I  procured 
some  fresh  linen  for  them.  But  the  workwomen  hav- 
ing marked  it  with  crowned  letters,  the  Princesses 
were  ordered  to  pick  them  out."  The  room  in  the 
great  tower  to  which  the  King  had  been  removed  con- 
tained only  one  bed,  and  no  other  article  of  furniture. 
A  chair  was  brought  on  which  Clery  spent  the  first 
night;  painters  were  still  at  work  on  the  room,  and 
the  smell  of  the  paint,  he  says,  was  almost  unbearable. 
This  room  was  afterwards  furnished  by  collecting 
from  various  parts  of  the  Temple  a  chest  of  drawers, 
a  small  bureau,  a  few  odd  chairs,  a  chimney-glass,  and 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  375 

a  bed  hung  with  green  damask,  which  had  been  used 
by  the  captain  of  the  guard  to  the  Comte  d'Artois.  A 
room  for  the  Queen  was  being  prepared  over  that  of 
the  King,  and  she  implored  the  workmen  to  finish  it 
quickly,  but  it  was  not  ready  for  her  occupation  for 
some  time,  and  when  she  was  allowed  to  remove  to 
it  the  Dauphin  was  taken  from  her  and  placed  with 
his  father.  When  their  Majesties  met  again  in  the 
great  Tower,  says  Clery,  there  was  little  change  in 
the  hours  fixed  for  meals,  reading,  walking,  and  the 
education  of  their  children.  They  were  not  allowed 
to  have  mass  said  in  the  Temple,  and  therefore  com- 
missioned Clery  to  get  them  the  breviary  in  use  in 
the  diocese  of  Paris.  Among  the  books  read  by  the 
King  while  in  the  Tower  were  Hume's  "  History  of 
England"  (in  the  original),  Tasso,  and  the  "  De 
Imitatione  Christi."  The  jealous  suspicions  of  the 
municipal  officers  led  to  the  most  absurd  investiga- 
tions; a  draught-board  was  taken  to  pieces  lest  the 
squares  should  hide  treasonable  papers;  macaroons 
were  broken  in  half  to  see  that  they  did  not  contain 
letters;  peaches  were  cut  open  and  the  stones  cracked; 
and  Clery  was  compelled  to  drink  the  essence  of  soap 
prepared  for  shaving  the  King,  under  the  pretence  that 
it  might  contain  poison. 

In  November  the  King  and  all  the  family  had  fe- 
verish colds,  and  Clery  had  an  attack  of  rheumatic 
fever.  On  the  first  day  of  his  illness  he  got  up  and 
tried  to  dress  his  master,  but  the  King,  seeing  how  ill 
he  was,  ordered  him  to  lie  down,  and  himself  dressed 
the  Dauphin.  The  little  Prince  waited  on  Clery  all 
day,  and  in  the  evening  the  King  contrived  to  ap- 
proach his  bed,  and  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  should 
like  to  take  care  of  you  myself,  but  you  know  how  we 
are  watched.  Take  courage;  to-morrow  you  shall  see 
my   doctor."      Madame   Elisabeth   brought   the   valet 


376  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

cooling  draughts,  of  which  she  deprived  herself;  and 
after  Clery  was  able  to  get  up,  the  young  Prince  one 
night  with  great  difficulty  kept  awake  till  eleven  o'clock 
in  order  to  give  him  a  box  of  lozenges  when  he  went 
to  make  the  King's  bed. 

On  7th  December  a  deputation  from  the  Commune 
brought  an  order  that  the  royal  family  should  be  de- 
prived of  "  knives,  razors,  scissors,  penknives,  and  all 
other  cutting  instruments."  The  King  gave  up  a 
knife,  and  took  from  a  morocco  case  a  pair  of  scis- 
sors and  a  penknife;  and  the  officials  then  searched 
the  room,  taking  away  the  little  toilet  implements  of 
gold  and  silver,  and  afterwards  removing  the  Prin- 
cesses' working  materials.  Returning  to  the  King's 
room,  they  insisted  upon  seeing  what  remained  in  his 
pocket-case.  "  Are  these  toys  which  I  have  in  my 
hand  also  cutting  instruments  ? "  asked  the  King, 
showing  them  a  cork-screw,  a  turn-screw,  and  a 
steel  for  lighting.  These  also  were  taken  from  him. 
Shortly  afterwards  Madame  Elisabeth  was  mending 
the  King's  coat,  and,  having  no  scissors,  was  compelled 
to  break  the  thread  with  her  teeth. 

"  What  a  contrast !  "  he  exclaimed,  looking  at  her 
tenderly.  '  You  wanted  nothing  in  your  pretty  house 
at  Montreuil." 

"  Ah,  brother,"  she  answered,  "  how  can  I  have  any 
regret  when  I  partake  your  misfortunes?" 

The  Queen  had  frequently  to  take  on  herself 
some  of  the  humble  duties  of  a  servant.  This  was 
especially  painful  to  Louis  XVI.  when  the  anniver- 
sary of  some  State  festival  brought  the  contrast  be- 
tween past  and  present  with  unusual  keenness  be- 
fore him. 

"  Ah,  Madame,"  he  once  exclaimed,  "  what  an  em- 
ployment for  a  Queen  of  France !  Could  they  see 
that  at  Vienna!     Who  would  have  foreseen  that,  in 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  377 

uniting  your  lot  to  mine,  you  would  have  descended 
so  low?  " 

"  And  do  you  esteem  as  nothing,"  she  replied,  "  the 
glory  of  being  the  wife  of  one  of  the  best  and  most 
persecuted  of  men?  Are  not  such  misfortunes  the 
noblest  honours?  " 

Meanwhile  the  Assembly  had  decided  that  the  King 
should  be  brought  to  trial.  Nearly  all  parties,  except 
the  Girondists,  no  matter  how  bitterly  opposed  to 
each  other,  could  agree  in  making  him  the  scape- 
goat; and  the  first  rumour  of  the  approaching  ordeal 
was  conveyed  to  the  Temple  by  Clery's  wife,  who,  with 
a  friend,  had  permission  occasionally  to  visit  him.  "  I 
did  not  know  how  to  announce  this  terrible  news  to  the 
King,"  he  says;  "but  time  was  pressing,  and  he  had 
forbidden  my  concealing  anything  from  him.  In  the 
evening,  while  undressing  him,  I  gave  him  an  account 
of  all  I  had  learnt,  and  added  that  there  were  only 
four  days  to  concert  some  plan  of  corresponding  with 
the  Queen.  The  arrival  of  the  municipal  officer  would 
not  allow  me  to  say  more.  Next  morning,  when  the 
King  rose,  I  could  not  get  a  moment  for  speaking 
with  him.  He  went  up  with  his  son  to  breakfast  with 
the  Princesses,  and  I  followed.  After  breakfast  he 
talked  long  with  the  Queen,  who,  by  a  look  full  of 
trouble,  made  me  understand  that  they  were  discussing 
what  I  had  told  the  King.  During  the  day  I  found 
an  opportunity  of  describing  to  Madame  Elisabeth 
how  much  it  had  cost  me  to  augment  the  King's  dis- 
tresses by  informing  him  of  his  approaching  trial.  She 
reassured  me,  saying  that  the  King  felt  this  as  a  mark 
of  attachment  on  my  part,  and  added,  '  That  which 
most  troubles  him  is  the  fear  of  being  separated  from 
us.'  In  the  evening  the  King  told  me  how  satisfied  he 
was  at  having  had  warning  that  he  was  to  appear 
before  the  Convention.     '  Continue,'  he  said,  '  to  en- 


tf8  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

deavour  to  find  out  something  as  to  what  they  want 
to  do  with  me.  Never  fear  distressing  me.  I  have 
agreed  with  my  family  not  to  seem  pre-informed,  in 
order  not  to  compromise  you.'  " 

On  the  nth  December,  at  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  the  prisoners  heard  the  generate  beaten 
throughout  Paris,  and  cavalry  and  cannon  entered  the 
Temple  gardens.  At  nine  the  King  and  the  Dauphin 
went  as  usual  to  breakfast  with  the  Queen.  They 
were  allowed  to  remain  together  for  an  hour,  but  con- 
stantly under  the  eyes  of  their  republican  guardians. 
At  last  they  were  obliged  to  part,  doubtful  whether 
they  would  ever  see  each  other  again.  The  little 
Prince,  who  remained  with  his  father,  and  was  igno- 
rant of  the  new  cause  for  anxiety,  begged  hard  that 
the  King  would  play  at  ninepins  with  him  as  usual. 
Twice  the  Dauphin  could  not  get  beyond  a  certain 
number.  "  Each  time  that  I  get  up  to  sixteen,"  he 
said,  with  some  vexation,  "  I  lose  the  game."  The 
King  did  not  reply,  but  Clery  fancied  the  words  made 
a  painful  impression  on  him. 

'  At  eleven,  while  the  King  was  giving  the  Dauphin 
a  reading  lesson,  two  municipal  officers  entered  and 
said  they  had  come  "  to  take  young  Louis  to  his 
mother."  The  King  inquired  why,  but  was  only  told 
that  such  were  the  orders  of  the  Council.  At  one 
o'clock  the  Mayor  of  Paris,  Chambon,  accompanied 
by  Chaumette,  Procureur  de  la  Commune,  Santerre, 
commandant  of  the  National  Guard,  and  others,  ar- 
rived at  the  Temple  and  read  a  decree  to  the  King, 
which  ordered  that  "  Louis  Capet  "  should  be  brought 
before  the  Convention.  "  Capet  is  not  my  name,"  he 
replied,  "  but  that  of  one  of  my  ancestors.  I  could 
have  wished,"  he  added,  "  that  you  had  left  my  son 
with  me  during  the  last  two  hours.  But  this  treat- 
ment is  consistent  with  all  I  have  experienced  here. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  379 

I  follow  you,  not  because  I  recognise  the  authority  of 
the  Convention,  but  because  I  can  be  compelled  to 
obey  it."  He  then  followed  the  Mayor  to  a  carriage 
which  waited,  with  a  numerous  escort,  at  the  gate 
of  the  Temple.  The  family  left  behind  were  over- 
whelmed with  grief  and  apprehension.  "It  is  im- 
possible to  describe  the  anxiety  we  suffered,"  says  Ma- 
dame Royale.  "  My  mother  used  every  endeavour 
with  the  officer  who  guarded  her  to  discover  what  was 
passing;  it  was  the  first  time  she  had  condescended  to 
question  any  of  these  men.  He  would  tell  her 
nothing." 

Trial  of  the  King. — Parting  of  the  Royal  Family. — 
Execution 

The  crowd  was  immense  as,  on  the  morning  of 
the  nth  December,  1792,  Louis  XVI.  was  driven 
slowly  from  the  Temple  to  the  Convention,  escorted 
by  cavalry,  infantry,  and  artillery.  Paris  looked  like 
an  armed  camp;  all  the  posts  were  doubled;  the 
muster-roll  of  the  National  Guard  was  called  over 
every  hour;  a  picket  of  two  hundred  men  watched  in 
the  court  of  each  of  the  right  sections;  a  reserve  with 
cannon  was  stationed  at  the  Tuileries,  and  strong  de- 
tachments patrolled  the  streets  and  cleared  the  road 
of  all  loiterers.  The  trees  that  lined  the  boulevards, 
the  doors  and  windows  of  the  houses,  were  alive  with 
gazers,  and  all  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  King.  He  was 
much  changed  since  his  people  last  beheld  him.  The 
beard  he  had  been  compelled  to  grow  after  his  razors 
were  taken  from  him  covered  cheeks,  lips,  and  chin 
with  light-coloured  hair,  which  concealed  the  melan- 
choly expression  of  his  mouth;  he  had  become  thin, 
and  his  garments  hung  loosely  on  him;  but  his  man- 
ner was  perfectly  collected  and  calm,  and  he  recog- 


380  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

nised  and  named  to  the  Mayor  the  various  quarters 
through  which  he  passed.  On  arriving  at  the  Feuil- 
lans  he  was  taken  to  a  room  to  await  the  orders  of 
the  Assembly. 

It  was  about  half-past  two  when  the  King  appeared 
at  the  bar.  The  Mayor  and  Generaux  Santerre  and 
Wittengoff  were  at  his  side.  Profound  silence  per- 
vaded the  Assembly.  All  were  touched  by  the  King's 
dignity  and  the  composure  of  his  looks  under  so  great 
a  reverse  of  fortune.  By  nature  he  had  been  formed 
rather  to  endure  calamity  with  patience  than  to  con- 
tend against  it  with  energy.  The  approach  of  death 
could  not  disturb  his  serenity. 

"  Louis,  you  may  be  seated,"  said  Barere.  "  An- 
swer the  questions  that  shall  be  put  to  you."  The 
King  seated  himself  and  listened  to  the  reading  of 
the  acte  enonciatif,  article  by  article.  All  the  faults 
of  the  Court  were  then  enumerated  and  imputed  to 
Louis  XVI.  personally.  He  was  charged  with  the 
interruption  of  the  sittings  of  the  20th  of  June,  1789, 
with  the  Bed  of  Justice  held  on  the  23d  of  the  same 
month,  the  aristocratic  conspiracy  thwarted  by  the 
insurrection  of  the  14th  of  July,  the  entertainment 
of  the  Life  Guards,  the  insults  offered  to  the  national 
cockade,  the  refusal  to  sanction  the  Declaration  of 
Rights,  as  well  as  several  constitutional  articles; 
lastly,  all  the  facts  which  indicated  a  new  con- 
spiracy in  October,  and  which  were  followed  by 
the  scenes  of  the  5th  and  6th;  the  speeches  of 
reconciliation  which  had  succeeded  all  these  scenes, 
and  which  promised  a  change  that  was  not  sincere; 
the  false  oath  taken  at  the  Federation  of  the  14th  of 
July ;  the  secret  practices  of  Talon  and  Mirabeau  to 
effect  a  counter-revolution;  the  money  spent  in  brib- 
ing a  great  number  of  deputies;  the  assemblage  of 
the  "  knights  of  the  dagger  "  on  the  28th  of  Febru- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  381 

ary,  1791;  the  flight  to  Varennes;  the  fusilade  of  the 
Champ  de  Mars;  the  silence  observed  respecting  the 
Treaty  of  Pilnitz;  the  delay  in  the  promulgation  of 
the  decree  which  incorporated  Avignon  with  France; 
the  commotions  at  Nimes,  Montauban,  Mende,  and 
Jales;  the  continuance  of  their  pay  to  the  emi- 
grant Life  Guards  and  to  the  disbanded  Consti- 
tutional Guard;  the  insufficiency  of  the  armies 
assembled  on  the  frontiers;  the  refusal  to  sanction 
the  decree  for  the  camp  of  twenty  thousand  men; 
the  disarming  of  the  fortresses;  the  organisation  of 
secret  societies  in  the  interior  of  Paris;  the  review 
of  the  Swiss  and  the  garrison  of  the  palace  on  the 
10th  August;  the  summoning  the  Mayor  to  the 
Tuileries;  and  lastly,  the  effusion  of  blood  which  had 
resulted  from  these  military  dispositions.  After  each 
article  the  President  paused,  and  said,  "  What  have 
you  to  answer?"  The  King,  in  a  firm  voice,  denied 
some  of  the  facts,  imputed  others  to  his  ministers, 
and  always  appealed  to  the  constitution,  from  which 
he  declared  he  had  never  deviated.  His  answers  were 
very  temperate,  but  on  the  charge,  "  You  spilt  the 
blood  of  the  people  on  the  10th  of  August,"  he  ex- 
claimed with  emphasis,  "No,  monsieur,  no;  it  was 
not  I." 

All  the  papers  on  which  the  act  of  accusation  was 
founded  were  then  shown  to  the  King,  and  he  disa- 
vowed some  of  them  and  disputed  the  existence  of 
the  iron  chest;  this  produced  a  bad  impression,  and 
was  worse  than  useless,  as  the  fact  had  been  proved. 
Throughout  the  examination  the  King  showed  great 
presence  of  mind.  He  was  careful  in  his  answers 
never  to  implicate  any  members  of  the  constituent 
and  legislative  Assemblies;  many  who  then  sat  as  his 
judges  trembled  lest  he  should  betray  them.  The 
Jacobins  beheld  with  dismay  the  profound  impression 


382  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

made  on  the  Convention  by  the  firm  but  mild  de- 
meanour of  the  sovereign.  The  most  violent  of  the 
party  proposed  that  he  should  be  hanged  that  very 
night;  a  laugh  as  of  demons  followed  the  proposal 
from  the  benches  of  the  Mountain,  but  the  majority, 
composed  of  the  Girondists  and  the  neutrals,  decided 
that  he  should  be  formally  tried. 

After  the  examination  Santerre  took  the  King  by 
the  arm  and  led  him  back  to  the  waiting-room  of  the 
Convention,  accompanied  by  Chambon  and  Chaumette. 
Mental  agitation  and  the  length  of  the  proceedings 
had  exhausted  him,  and  he  staggered  from  weakness. 
Chaumette  inquired  if  he  wished  for  refreshment,  but 
the  King  refused  it.  A  moment  after,  seeing  a  gren- 
adier of  the  escort  offer  the  Procureur  de  la  Commune 
half  a  small  loaf,  Louis  XVI.  approached  and  asked 
him,  in  a  whisper,  for  a  piece. 

"  Ask  aloud  for  what  you  want,"  said  Chaumette, 
retreating  as  though  he  feared  being  suspected  of 
pity. 

"  I  asked  for  a  piece  of  your  bread,"  replied  the 
King. 

"  Divide  it  with  me,"  said  Chaumette.  "  It  is  a 
Spartan  breakfast.  If  I  had  a  root  I  would  give  you 
half." 

Soon  after  six  in  the  evening  the  King  returned  to 
the  Temple.  "  He  seemed  tired,"  says  Clery,  simply, 
"  and  his  first  wish  was  to  be  led  to  his  family.  The 
officers  refused,  on  the  plea  that  they  had  no  orders. 
He  insisted  that  at  least  they  should  be  informed  of 
his  return,  and  this  was  promised  him.  The  King 
ordered  me  to  ask  for  his  supper  at  half -past  eight 
The  intervening  hours  he  employed  in  his  usual  read- 
ing, surrounded  by  four  municipals.  When  I  an- 
nounced that  supper  was  served,  the  King  asked  the 
commissaries   if   his    family   could    not   come   down. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  383 

They  made  no  reply.  '  But  at  least,'  the  King  said, 
'  my  son  will  pass  the  night  in  my  room,  his  bed  being 
here  ? '  The  same  silence.  After  supper  the  King 
again  urged  his  wish  to  see  his  family.  They  an- 
swered that  they  must  await  the  decision  of  the  Con- 
vention. While  I  was  undressing  him  the  King  said, 
'  I  was  far  from  expecting  all  the  questions  they  put 
to  me.'  He  lay  down  with  perfect  calmness.  The 
order  for  my  removal  during  the  night  was  not  exe- 
cuted." On  the  King's  return  to  the  Temple  being 
known,  "  my  mother  asked  to  see  him  instantly," 
writes  Madame  Royale.  "  She  made  the  same  request 
even  to  Chambon,  but  received  no  answer.  My 
brother  passed  the  night  with  her;  and  as  he  had  no 
bed,  she  gave  him  hers,  and  sat  up  all  the  night  in 
such  deep  affliction  that  we  were  afraid  to  leave  her; 
but  she  compelled  my  aunt  and  me  to  go  to  bed. 
Next  day  she  again  asked  to  see  my  father,  and  to 
read  the  newspapers,  that  she  might  learn  the  course 
of  the  trial.  She  entreated  that  if  she  was  to  be  de- 
nied this  indulgence,  his  children,  at  least,  might  see 
him.  Her  requests  were  referred  to  the  Commune. 
The  newspapers  were  refused;  but  my  brother  and  I 
were  to  be  allowed  to  see  my  father  on  condition  of 
being  entirely  separated  from  my  mother.  My  father 
replied  that,  great  as  his  happiness  was  in  seeing  his 
children,  the  important  business  which  then  occupied 
him  would  not  allow  of  his  attending  altogether  to 
his  son,  and  that  his  daughter  could  not-  leave  her 
mother." 

The  Assembly  having,  after  a  violent  debate,  re- 
solved that  Louis  XVI.  should  have  the  aid  of  counsel, 
a  deputation  was  sent  to  the  Temple  to  ask  whom  he 
would  choose.  The  King  named  Messieurs  Target 
and  Tronchet.  The  former  refused  his  services  on  the 
ground  that  he  had  discontinued  practice  since  1785; 


384  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  latter  complied  at  once  with  the  King's  request; 
and  while  the  Assembly  was  considering  whom  to 
nominate  in  Target's  place,  the  President  received  a 
letter  from  the  venerable  Malesherbes,  then  seventy 
years  old,  and  "  the  most  respected  magistrate  in 
France,"  in  the  course  of  which  he  said:  "I  have 
been  twice  called  to  be  counsel  for  him  who  was  my 
master,  in  times  when  that  duty  was  coveted  by  every 
one.  I  owe  him  the  same  service  now  that  it  is  a 
duty  which  many  people  deem  dangerous.  If  I  knew 
any  possible  means  of  acquainting  him  with  my  de- 
sires, I  should  not  take  the  liberty  of  addressing 
myself  to  you."  Other  citizens  made  similar  pro- 
posals, but  the  King,  being  made  acquainted  with 
them  by  a  deputation  from  the  Commune,  while  ex- 
pressing his  gratitude  for  all  the  offers,  accepted  only 
that  of  Malesherbes. 

On  14th  December  M.  Tronchet  was  allowed  to 
confer  with  the  King,  and  later  in  the  same  day  M. 
de  Malesherbes  was  admitted  to  the  Tower.  "  The 
King  ran  up  to  this  worthy  old  man,  whom  he  clasped 
in  his  arms,"  said  Clery,  "  and  the  former  minister 
melted  into  tears  at  the  sight  of  his  master."  An- 
other deputation  brought  the  King  the  Act  of  Accusa- 
tion and  the  documents  relating  to  it,  numbering  more 
than  a  hundred,  and  taking  from  four  o'clock  till  mid- 
night to  read.  During  this  long  process  the  King  had 
refreshments  served  to  the  deputies,  taking  nothing 
himself  till  they  had  left,  but  considerately  reproving 
Clery  for  not  having  supped.  From  the  14th  to  the 
26th  December  the  King  saw  his  counsel  and  their 
colleague  M.  de  Seze  every  day.  At  this  time  a 
means  of  communication  between  the  royal  family 
and  the  King  was  devised:  a  man  named  Turgi,  who 
had  been  in  the  royal  kitchen,  and  who  contrived  to 
obtain  employment  in  the  Temple,   when  conveying 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  385 

the  meals  of  the  royal  family  to  their  apartments,  or 
articles  he  had  purchased  for  them,  managed  to  give 
Madame  Elisabeth  news  of  the  King.  Next  day,  the 
Princess,  when  Turgi  was  removing  the  dinner, 
slipped  into  his  hand  a  bit  of  paper  on  which  she  had 
pricked  with  a  pin  a  request  for  a  word  from  her 
brother's  own  hand.  Turgi  gave  this  paper  to  Clery, 
who  conveyed  it  to  the  King  the  same  evening;  and 
he,  being  allowed  writing  materials  while  preparing 
his  defence,  wrote  Madame  Elisabeth  a  short  note. 
An  answer  was  conveyed  in  a  ball  of  cotton,  which 
Turgi  threw  under  Clery's  bed  while  passing  the  door 
of  his  room.  Letters  were  also  passed  between  the 
Princess's  room  and  that  of  Clery,  who  lodged  be- 
neath her,  by  means  of  a  string  let  down  and  drawn 
up  at  night.  This  communication  with  his  family 
was  a  great  comfort  to  the  King,  who,  nevertheless, 
constantly  cautioned  his  faithful  servant.  "  Take 
care,"  he  would  say  kindly,  "  you  expose  yourself  too 
much." 

During  his  separation  from  his  family  the  King 
refused  to  go  into  the  garden.  When  it  was  pro- 
posed to  him  he  said,  "  I  cannot  make  up  my  mind 
to  go  out  alone;  the  walk  was  agreeable  to  me  only 
when  I  shared  it  with  my  family."  But  he  did  not 
allow  himself  to  dwell  on  painful  reflections.  He 
talked  freely  to  the  municipals  on  guard,  and  sur- 
prised them  by  his  varied  and  practical  knowledge  of 
their  trades,  and  his  interest  in  their  domestic  affairs. 
On  the  19th  December  the  King's  breakfast  was 
served  as  usual;  but,  being  a  fast-day,  he  refused  to 
take  anything.  At  dinner-time  the  King  said  to  Clery, 
'■  Fourteen  years  ago  you  were  up  earlier  than  you 
were  to-day;  it  is  the  day  my  daughter  was  born — 
to-day,  her  birthday,"  he  repeated,  with  tears,  "  and 
to  be  prevented  from  seeing  her !  "     Madame  Royale 


386  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

had  wished  for  a  calendar;  the  King  ordered  Clery  to 
buy  her  the  "  Almanac  of  the  Republic,"  which  had 
replaced  the  "  Court  Almanac,"  and  ran  through  it, 
marking  with  a  pencil  many  names. 

"  On  Christmas  Day,"  says  Clery,  "  the  King  wrote 
his  will." 

On  the  26th  December,  1792,  the  King  appeared 
a  second  time  before  the  Convention.  M.  de  Seze, 
labouring  night  and  day,  had  completed  his  defence. 
The  King  insisted  on  excluding  from  it  all  that  was 
too  rhetorical,  and  confining  it  to  the  mere  discussion 
of  essential  points.  At  half-past  nine  in  the  morn- 
ing the  whole  armed  force  was  in  motion  to  conduct 
him  from  the  Temple  to  the  Feuillans,  with  the  same 
precautions  and  in  the  same  order  as  had  been  ob- 
served on  the  former  occasion.  Riding  in  the  car- 
riage of  the  Mayor,  he  conversed,  on  the  way,  with 
the  same  composure  as  usual,  and  talked  of  Seneca, 
of  Livy,  of  the  hospitals.  Arrived  at  the  Feuillans, 
he  showed  great  anxiety  for  his  defenders;  he  seated 
himself  beside  them  in  the  Assembly,  surveyed  with 
great  composure  the  benches  where  his  accusers  and 
his  judges  sat,  seemed  to  examine  their  faces  with 
the  view  of  discovering  the  impression  produced  by 
the  pleading  of  M.  de  Seze,  and  more  than  once 
conversed  smilingly  with  Tronchet  and  Male- 
sherbes.  The  Assembly  received  his  defence  in 
sullen  silence,  but  without  any  tokens  of  disappro- 
bation. 

Being  afterwards  conducted  to  an  adjoining  room 
with  his  counsel,  the  King  showed  great  anxiety 
about  M.  de  Seze,  who  seemed  fatigued  by  the  long 
defence.  While  riding  back  to  the  Temple  he  con- 
versed with  his  companions  with  the  same  serenity  as 
he  had  shown  on  leaving  it. 

No  sooner  had  the  King  left  the  hall  of  the  Con- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  3^7 

vention  than  a  violent  tumult  arose  there.  Some 
were  for  opening  the  discussion.  Others,  complaining 
of  the  delays  which  postponed  the  decision  of  this 
process,  demanded  the  vote  immediately,  remarking 
that  in  every  court,  after  the  accused  had  been  heard, 
the  judges  proceed  to  give  their  opinion.  Lanjuinais 
had  from  the  commencement  of  the  proceedings  felt 
an  indignation  which  his  impetuous  disposition  no 
longer  suffered  him  to  repress.  He  darted  to  the 
tribune,  and,  amidst  the  cries  excited  by  his  presence, 
demanded  the  annulling  of  the  proceedings  altogether. 
He  exclaimed  that  the  days  of  ferocious  men  were 
gone  by,  that  the  Assembly  ought  not  to  be  so  dis- 
honoured as  to  be  made  to  sit  in  judgment  on  Louis 
XVI.,  that  no  authority  in  France  had  that  right,  and 
the  Assembly  in  particular  had  no  claim  to  it;  that  if 
it  resolved  to  act  as  a  political  body,  it  could  do  no 
more  than  take  measures  of  safety  against  the  ci- 
devant  King;  but  that  if  it  was  acting  as  a  court  of 
justice  it  was  overstepping  all  principles,  for  it  was 
subjecting  the  vanquished  to  be  tried  by  the  conquer- 
ors, since  most  of  the  present  members  had  declared 
themselves  the  conspirators  of  the  ioth  of  August. 
At  the  word  "  conspirators "  a  tremendous  uproar 
arose  on  all  sides.  Cries  of  "Order!"  "To  the 
Abbaye !  "  "  Down  with  the  Tribune !  "  were  heard. 
Lanjuinais  strove  in  vain  to  justify  the  word  "  con- 
spirators," saying  that  he  meant  it  to  be  taken  in  a 
favourable  sense,  and  that  the  ioth  of  August  was  a 
glorious  conspiracy.  He  concluded  by  declaring  that 
he  would  rather  die  a  thousand  deaths  than  condemn, 
contrary  to  all  laws,  even  the  most  execrable  of 
tyrants. 

A  great  number  of  speakers  followed,  and  the  con- 
fusion continually  increased.  The  members,  deter- 
mined not  to  hear  any  more,  mingled  together,  formed 

Vol.  3  Memoirs — 13 


388  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

groups,  abused,  and  threatened  one  another.  After  a 
tempest  of  an  hour's  duration,  tranquillity  was  at  last 
restored;  and  the  Assembly,  adopting  the  opinion  of 
those  who  demanded  the  discussion  on  the  trial  of 
Louis  XVI.,  declared  that  it  was  opened,  and  that  it 
should  be  continued,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  other 
business,  till  sentence  should  be  passed. 

The  discussion  was  accordingly  resumed  on  the 
27th,  and  there  was  a  constant  succession  of  speakers 
from  the  28th  to  the  31st.  Vergniaud  at  length 
ascended  the  tribune  for  the  first  time,  and  an  ex- 
traordinary eagerness  was  manifested  to  hear  the 
Girondists  express  their  sentiments  by  the  lips  of 
their  greatest  orator. 

The  speech  of  Vergniaud  produced  a  deep  im- 
pression on  all  his  hearers.  Robespierre  was  thunder- 
struck by  his  earnest  and  persuasive  eloquence.  Ver- 
gniaud, however,  had  but  shaken,  not  convinced,  the 
Assembly,  which  wavered  between  the  two  parties. 
Several  members  were  successively  heard,  for  and 
against  the  appeal  to  the  people.  Brissot,  Gensonne, 
Petion,  supported  it  in  their  turn.  One  speaker  at 
length  had  a  decisive  influence  on  the  question. 
Barere,  by  his  suppleness,  and  his  cold  and  evasive 
eloquence,  was  the  model  and  oracle  of  the  centre. 
He  spoke  at  great  length  on  the  trial,  reviewed  it  in 
all  its  bearings — of  facts,  of  laws,  and  of  policy — and 
furnished  all  those  weak  minds,  who  only  wanted 
specious  reasons  for  yielding,  with  motives  for  the 
condemnation  of  the  King.  From  that  moment  the 
unfortunate  King  was  condemned.  The  discussion 
lasted  till  the  7th,  and  nobody  would  listen  any  longer 
to  the  continual  repetition  of  the  same  facts  and  argu- 
ments. It  was  therefore  declared  to  be  closed  without 
opposition,  but  the  proposal  of  a  fresh  adjournment 
excited   a  commotion   among   the   most   violent,   and 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  '389 

ended  in  a  decree  which  fixed  the  14th  of  January 
for  putting  the  questions  to  the  vote. 

Meantime  the  King  did  not  allow  the  torturing  sus- 
pense to  disturb  his  outward  composure,  or  lessen  his 
kindness  to  those  around  him.  On  the  morning  after 
his  second  appearance  at  the  bar  of  the  Convention,  the 
commissary  Vincent,  who  had  undertaken  secretly  to 
convey  to  the  Queen  a  copy  of  the  King's  printed 
defence,  asked  for  something  which  had  belonged  to 
him,  to  treasure  as  a  relic;  the  King  took  off  his 
neck-handkerchief  and  gave  it  to  him;  his  gloves  he 
bestowed  on  another  municipal,  who  had  made  the 
same  request.  "  On  January  1st,"  says  Clery,  "  I 
approached  the  King's  bed  and  asked  permission  to 
offer  him  my  warmest  prayers  for  the  end  of  his  mis- 
fortunes. '  I  accept  your  good  wishes  with  affection,' 
he  replied,  extending  his  hand  to  me.  As  soon  as  he 
had  risen,  he  requested  a  municipal  to  go  and  inquire 
for  his  family,  and  present  them  his  good  wishes  for 
the  new  year.  The  officers  were  moved  by  the  tone 
in  which  these  words,  so  heartrending  considering 
the  position  of  the  King,  were  pronounced.  .  .  . 
The  correspondence  between  their  Majesties  went  on 
constantly.  The  King  being  informed  that  Madame 
Royale  was  ill,  was  very  uneasy  for  some  days.  The 
Queen,  after  begging  earnestly,  obtained  permission 
for  M.  Brunnier,  the  medical  attendant  of  the  royal 
children,  to  come  to  the  Temple.  This  seemed  to  quiet 
him." 

The  nearer  the  moment  which  was  to  decide  the 
King's  fate  approached,  the  greater  became  the  agi- 
tation in  Paris.  "  A  report  was  circulated  that  the 
atrocities  of  September  were  to  be  repeated  there, 
and  the  prisoners  and  their  relatives  beset  the  depu- 
ties with  supplications  that  they  would  snatch  them 
from  destruction.     The  Jacobins,   on  their  part,  al- 


390  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

leged  that  conspiracies  were  hatching  in  all  quarters 
to  save  Louis  XVI.  from  punishment,  and  to  restore 
royalty.  Their  anger,  excited  by  delays  and  obstacles, 
assumed  a  more  threatening  aspect ;  and  the  two  par- 
ties thus  alarmed  one  another  by  supposing  that  each 
harboured  sinister  designs." 

On  the  14th  of  January  the  Convention  called  for 
the  order  of  the  day,  being  the  final  judgment  of 
Louis  XVI. 

"  The  sitting  of  the  Convention  which  concluded 
the  trial,"  says  Hazlitt,  "  lasted  seventy-two  hours. 
It  might  naturally  be  supposed  that  silence,  restraint, 
a  sort  of  religious  awe,  would  have  pervaded  the 
scene.  On  the  contrary,  everything  bore  the  marks 
of  gaiety,  dissipation,  and  the  most  grotesque  con- 
fusion. The  farther  end  of  the  hall  was  converted 
into  boxes,  where  ladies,  in  a  studied  deshabille, 
swallowed  ices,  oranges,  liqueurs,  and  received  the 
salutations  of  the  members  who  went  and  came,  as 
on  ordinary  occasions.  Here  the  doorkeepers  on  the 
Mountain  side  opened  and  shut  the  boxes  reserved 
for  the  mistresses  of  the  Due  d'Orleans;  and  there, 
though  every  sound  of  approbation  or  disapprobation 
was  strictly  forbidden,  you  heard  the  long  and  indig- 
nant '  Ha,  ha's ! '  of  the  mother-duchess,  the  patroness 
of  the  bands  of  female  Jacobins,  whenever  her  ears 
were  not  loudly  greeted  with  the  welcome  sounds  of 
death.  The  upper  gallery,  reserved  for  the  people, 
was  during  the  whole  trial  constantly  full  of  strangers 
of  every  description,  drinking  wine  as  in  a  tavern. 
Bets  were  made  as  to  the  issue  of  the  trial  in  all 
the  neighbouring  coffee-houses.  Ennui,  impatience, 
disgust  sat  on  almost  every  countenance.  The  fig- 
ures passing  and  repassing,  rendered  more  ghastly  by 
the  pallid  lights,  and  who  in  a  slow,  sepulchral  voice 
pronounced   only   the   word — Death;  others   calculat- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  391 

ing  if  they  should  have  time  to  go  to  dinner  before 
they  gave  their  verdict;  women  pricking  cards  with 
pins  in  order  to  count  the  votes;  some  of  the  depu- 
ties fallen  asleep,  and  only  waking  up  to  give  their 
sentence, — all  this  had  the  appearance  rather  of  a 
hideous  dream  than  of  a  reality." 

The  Due  d'Orleans,  when  called  on  to  give  his  vote 
for  the  death  of  his  King  and  relation,  walked  with 
a  faltering  step,  and  a  face  paler  than  death  itself, 
to  the  appointed  place,  and  there  read  these  words : 
"  Exclusively  governed  by  my  duty,  and  convinced 
that  all  those  who  have  resisted  the  sovereignty  of 
the  people  deserve  death,  my  vote  is  for  death!" 
Important  as  the  accession  of  the  first  Prince  of  the 
blood  was  to  the  Terrorist  faction,  his  conduct  in  this 
instance  was  too  obviously  selfish  and  atrocious  not  to 
excite  a  general  feeling  of  indignation;  the  agitation 
of  the  Assembly  became  extreme;  it  seemed  as  if  by 
this  single  vote  the  fate  of  the  monarch  was  irrevo- 
cably sealed. 

The  President  having  examined  the  register,  the 
result  of  the  scrutiny  was  proclaimed  as  follows: 

Against  an  appeal  to  the  people     .       .       .     480 
For  an  appeal  to  the  people   ....     283 

Majority  for  final  judgment  .       .       .     197 

The  President  having  announced  that  he  was  about 
to  declare  the  result  of  the  scrutiny,  a  profound  si- 
lence ensued,  and  he  then  gave  in  the  following 
declaration:  that,  out  of  719  votes,  366  were  for 
Death,  319  were  for  imprisonment  during  the  war, 
two  for  perpetual  imprisonment,  eight  for  a  suspen- 
sion of  the  execution  of  the  sentence  of  death  until 
after  the  expulsion  of  the  family  of  the  Bourbons, 
twenty-three  were  for  not  putting  him  to  death  until 
the    French    territory    was    invaded    by    any    foreign 


392  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

power,  and  one  was  for  a  sentence  of  death,  but  with 
power  of  commutation  of  the  punishment. 

After  this  enumeration  the  President  took  off  hic 
hat,  and,  lowering  his  voice,  said :  "  In  consequence  oi 
this  expression  of  opinion  I  declare  that  the  punish- 
ment pronounced  by  the  National  Convention  against 
Louis  Capet  is  Death  !  " 

Previous  to  the  passing  of  the  sentence  the  Presi- 
dent announced  on  the  part  of  the  Foreign  Minister 
the  receipt  of  a  letter  from  the  Spanish  Minister  rel- 
ative to  that  sentence.  The  Convention,  however,  re- 
fused to  hear  it.  [It  will  be  remembered  that  a  similar 
remonstrance  was  forwarded  by  the  English  Govern- 
ment.] 

M.  de  Malesherbes,  according  to  his  promise  to 
the  King,  went  to  the  Temple  at  nine  o'clock  on  the 
morning  of  the  17th.  "  All  is  lost,"  he  said  to  Clery. 
"  The  King  is  condemned."  The  King,  who  saw  him 
arrive,  rose  to  receive  him.  M.  de  Malesherbes, 
choked  by  sobs,  threw  himself  at  his  feet.  The  King 
raised  him  up  and  affectionately  embraced  him.  When 
he  could  control  his  voice,  De  Malesherbes  informed 
the  King  of  the  decree  sentencing  him  to  death;  he 
made  no  movement  of  surprise  or  emotion,  but  seemed 
only  affected  by  the  distress  of  his  advocate,  whom  he 
tried  to  comfort. 

On  the  20th  of  January,  at  two  in  the  afternoon, 
Louis  XVI.  was  awaiting  his  advocates,  when  he 
heard  the  approach  of  a  numerous  party.  He  stopped 
with  dignity  at  the  door  of  his  apartment,  apparently 
unmoved.  Garat  then  told  him  sorrowfully  that  he 
was  commissioned  to  communicate  to  him  the  decrees 
of  the  Convention.  Grouvelle,  secretary  of  the  Execu- 
tive Council,  read  them  to  him.  The  first  declared 
Louis  XVI.  guilty  of  treason  against  the  general 
safety  of  the   State;   the  second  condemned  him  to 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  393 

death;  the  third  rejected  any  appeal  to  the  people; 
and  the  fourth  and  last  ordered  his  execution  in 
twenty- four  hours.  Louis,  looking  calmly  round,  took 
the  paper  from  Grouvelle,  and  read  Garat  a  letter, 
in  which  he  demanded  from  the  Convention  three 
days  to  prepare  for  death,  a  confessor  to  assist  him 
in  his  last  moments,  liberty  to  see  his  family,  and 
permission  for  them  to  leave  France.  Garat  took 
the  letter,  promising  to  submit  it  immediately  to  the 
Convention. 

Louis  XVI.  then  went  back  into  his  room  with  great 
composure,  ordered  his  dinner,  and  ate  as  usual. 
There  were  no  knives  on  the  table,  and  his  attendants 
refused  to  let  him  have  any.  "  Do  they  think  me  so 
cowardly,"  he  exclaimed,  "  as  to  lay  violent  hands  on 
myself?  I  am  innocent,  and  I  am  not  afraid  to 
die." 

The  Convention  refused  the  delay,  but  granted 
some  other  demands  which  he  had  made.  Garat  sent 
for  Edgeworth  de  Firmont,  the  ecclesiastic  whom 
Louis  XVI.  had  chosen,  and  took  him  in  his  own 
carriage  to  the  Temple.  M.  Edgeworth,  on  being 
ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  King,  would  have 
thrown  himself  at  his  feet,  but  Louis  instantly  raised 
him,  and  both  shed  tears  of  emotion.  He  then,  with 
eager  curiosity,  asked  various  questions  concerning 
the  clergy  of  France,  several  bishops,  and  particularly 
the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  requesting  him  to  assure  the 
latter  that  he  died  faithfully  attached  to  his  com- 
munion. The  clock  having  struck  eight,  he  rose, 
begged  M.  Edgeworth  to  wait,  and  retired  with  emo- 
tion, saying  that  he  was  going  to  see  his  family.  The 
municipal  officers,  unwilling  to  lose  sight  of  the  King, 
even  while  with  his  family,  had  decided  that  he  should 
see  them  in  the  dining-room,  which  had  a  glass  door, 
through  which  they  could  watch  all  his  motions  with- 


394  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

out  hearing  what  he  said.  At  half-past  eight  the 
door  opened.  The  Queen,  holding  the  Dauphin  by 
the  hand,  Madame  Elisabeth,  and  Madame  Royale 
rushed  sobbing  into  the  arms  of  Louis  XVI.  The 
door  was  closed,  and  the  municipal  officers,  Clery, 
and  M.  Edgeworth  placed  themselves  behind  it.  Dur- 
ing the  first  moments  it  was  but  a  scene  of  confusion 
and  despair.  Cries  and  lamentations  prevented  those 
who  were  on  the  watch  from  distinguishing  anything. 
At  length  the  conversation  became  more  calm,  and 
the  Princesses,  still  holding  the  King  clasped  in  their 
arms,  spoke  with  him  in  a  low  tone.  "  He  related 
his  trial  to  my  mother,"  says  Madame  Royale,  "  apol- 
ogising for  the  wretches  who  had  condemned  him. 
He  told  her  that  he  would  not  consent  to  any  attempt 
to  save  him,  which  might  excite  disturbance  in  the 
country.  He  then  gave  my  brother  some  religious 
advice,  and  desired  him,  above  all,  to  forgive  those 
who  caused  his  death;  and  he  gave  us  his  blessing. 
My  mother  was  very  desirous  that  the  whole  family 
should  pass  the  night  with  my  father,  but  he  opposed 
this,  observing  to  her  that  he  much  needed  some 
hours  of  repose  and  quiet."  After  a  long  conversa- 
tion, interrupted  by  silence  and  grief,  the  King  put 
an  end  to  the  painful  meeting,  agreeing  to  see  his 
family  again  at  eight  the  next  morning.  "  Do  you 
promise  that  you  will?"  earnestly  inquired  the  Prin- 
cesses. "  Yes,  yes,"  sorrowfully  replied  the  King. 
At  this  moment  the  Queen  held  him  by  one  arm, 
Madame  Elisabeth  by  the  other,  while  Madame  Royale 
clasped  him  round  the  waist,  and  the  Dauphin  stood 
before  him,  with  one  hand  in  that  of  his  mother. 
At  the  moment  of  retiring  Madame  Royale  fainted; 
she  was  carried  away,  and  the  King  returned  to  M. 
Edgeworth  deeply  depressed  by  this  painful  interview. 
The  King  retired  to  rest  about  midnight;  M.  Edge- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  395 

worth  threw  himself  upon  a  bed,  and  Clery  took  his 
place  near  the  pillow  of  his  master. 

Next  morning,  the  21st  of  January,  at  five,  the 
King  awoke,  called  Clery,  and  dressed  with  great 
calmness.  He  congratulated  himself  on  having  re- 
covered his  strength  by  sleep.  Clery  kindled  a  fire, 
and  moved  a  chest  of  drawers,  out  of  which  he  formed 
an  altar.  M.  Edgeworth  put  on  his  pontifical  robes, 
and  began  to  celebrate  mass.  Clery  waited  on  him, 
and  the  King  listened,  kneeling  with  the  greatest 
devotion.  He  then  received  the  communion  from  the 
hands  of  M.  Edgeworth,  and  after  mass  rose  with  new 
vigour,  and  awaited  with  composure  the  moment  for 
going  to  the  scaffold.  He  asked  for  scissors  that 
Clery  might  cut  his  hair;  but  the  Commune  refused 
to  trust  him  with  a  pair. 

At  this  moment  the  drums  were  beating  in  the 
capital.  All  who  belonged  to  the  armed  sections 
repaired  to  their  company  with  complete  submission. 
It  was  reported  that  four  or  five  hundred  devoted  men 
were  to  make  a  dash  upon  the  carriage,  and  rescue 
the  King.  The  Convention,  the  Commune,  the  Execu- 
tive Council,  and  the  Jacobins  were  sitting.  At  eight 
in  the  morning,  Santerre,  with  a  deputation  from  the 
Commune,  the  department,  and  the  criminal  tribunal, 
repaired  to  the  Temple.  Louis  XVI.,  on  hearing  them 
arrive,  rose  and  prepared  to  depart.  He  desired  Clery 
to  transmit  his  last  farewell  to  his  wife,  his  sister,  and 
his  children;  he  gave  him  a  sealed  packet,  hair,  and 
various  trinkets,  with  directions  to  deliver  these  arti- 
cles to  them.  He  then  clasped  his  hand  and  thanked 
him  for  his  services.  After  this  he  addressed  himself 
to  one  of  the  municipal  officers,  requesting  him  to 
transmit  his  last  will  to  the  Commune.  This  officer, 
who  had  formerly  been  a  priest,  and  was  named 
Jacques  Roux,  brutally  replied  that  his  business  was 


396  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

to  conduct  him  to  execution,  and  not  to  perform  his 
commissions.  Another  person  took  charge  of  it,  and 
Louis,  turning  towards  the  party,  gave  with  firmness 
the  signal  for  starting. 

Officers  of  gendarmerie  were  placed  on  the  front 
seat  of  the  carriage.  The  King  and  M.  Edgeworth 
occupied  the  back.  During  the  ride,  which  was  rather 
long,  the  King  read  in  M.  Edgeworth's  breviary  the 
prayers  for  persons  at  the  point  of  death;  the  two 
gendarmes  were  astonished  at  his  piety  and  tranquil 
resignation.  The  vehicle  advanced  slowly,  and  amidst 
universal  silence.  At  the  Place  de  la  Revolution  an 
extensive  space  had  been  left  vacant  about  the  scaffold. 
Around  this  space  were  planted  cannon;  the  most 
violent  of  the  Federalists  were  stationed  about  the 
scaffold;  and  the  vile  rabble,  always  ready  to  insult 
genius,  virtue,  and  misfortune,  when  a  signal  is  given 
it  to  do  so,  crowded  behind  the  ranks  of  the  Federal- 
ists, and  alone  manifested  some  outward  tokens  of 
satisfaction. 

At  ten  minutes  past  ten  the  carriage  stopped. 
Louis  XVI.,  rising  briskly,  stepped  out  into  the 
Place.  Three  executioners  came  up;  he  refused 
their  assistance,  and  took  off  his  clothes  himself. 
But,  perceiving  that  they  were  going  to  bind  his 
hands,  he  made  a  movement  of  indignation,  ^  and 
seemed  ready  to  resist.  M.  Edgeworth  gave  him  a 
last  look,  and  said,  "  Suffer  this  outrage,  as  a  last 
resemblance  to  that  God  who  is  about  to  be  your 
reward."  At  these  words  the  King  suffered  himself 
to  be  bound  and  conducted  to  the  scaffold.  All  at 
once  Louis  hurriedly  advanced  to  address  the  people. 
"  Frenchmen,"  said  he,  in  a  firm  voice,  "  I  die  inno- 
cent of  the  crimes  which  are  imputed  to  me;  I  for- 
give the  authors  of  my  death,  and  I  pray  that  my 
blood  may  not  fall  upon  France."     He  would  have 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  397 

continued,  but  the  drums  were  instantly  ordered  to 
beat:  their  rolling  drowned  his  voice;  the  execu- 
tioners laid  hold  of  him,  and  M.  Edge  worth  took  his 
leave  in  these  memorable  words :  "  Son  of  Saint  Louis, 
ascend  to  heaven!"  As  soon  as  the  blood  flowed, 
furious  wretches  dipped  their  pikes  and  handkerchiefs 
in  it,  then  dispersed  throughout  Paris,  shouting  "  Vive 
la  Republique!  Vive  la  Nation!  "  and  even  went  to 
the  gates  of  the  Temple  to  display  brutal  and  factious 
joy. 

The   Royal  Prisoners. — Separation   of   the   Dauphin 
from  His  Family. — Removal  of  the  Queen 

On  the  morning  of  the  King's  execution,  according 
to  the  narrative  of  Madame  Royale,  his  family  rose 
at  six:  "The  night  before,  my  mother  had  scarcely 
strength  enough  to  put  my  brother  to  bed.  She  threw 
herself,  dressed  as  she  was,  on  her  own  bed,  where  we 
heard  her  shivering  with  cold  and  grief  all  night  long. 
At  a  quarter-past  six  the  door  opened;  we  believed 
that  we  were  sent  for  to  the  King,  but  it  was  only  the 
officers  looking  for  a  prayer-book  for  him.  We  did 
not,  however,  abandon  the  hope  of  seeing  him,  till 
shouts  of  joy  from  the  infuriated  populace  told  us  that 
all  was  over.  In  the  afternoon  my  mother  asked  to 
see  Clery,  who  probably  had  some  message  for  her; 
we  hoped  that  seeing  him  would  occasion  a  burst  of 
grief  which  might  relieve  the  state  of  silent  and  chok- 
ing agony  in  which  we  saw  her."  The  request  was 
refused,  and  the  officers  who  brought  the  refusal  said 
Clery  was  in  "  a  frightful  state  of  despair  "  at  not 
being  allowed  to  see  the  royal  family;  shortly  after- 
wards he  was  dismissed  from  the  Temple. 

"  We  had  now  a  little  more  freedom,"  continues 
the    Princess;    '"  our   guards   even   believed    that    we 


398  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

were  about  to  be  sent  out  of  France ;  but  nothing 
could  calm  my  mother's  agony;  no  hope  could  touch 
her  heart,  and  life  or  death  became  indifferent  to  her. 
Fortunately  my  own  affliction  increased  my  illness  so 
seriously  that  it  distracted  her  thoughts.  .  .  .  My 
mother  would  go  no  more  to  the  garden,  because 
she  must  have  passed  the  door  of  what  had  been 
my  father's  room,  and  that  she  could  not  bear.  But 
fearing  lest  want  of  air  should  prove  injurious  to 
my  brother  and  me,  about  the  end  of  February  she 
asked  permission  to  walk  on  the  leads  of  the  Tower, 
and  it  was  granted." 

The  Council  of  the  Commune,  becoming  aware  of 
the  interest  which  these  sad  promenades  excited,  and 
the  sympathy  with  which  they  were  observed  from  the 
neighbouring  houses,  ordered  that  the  spaces  between 
the  battlements  should  be  filled  up  with  shutters, 
which  intercepted  the  view.  But  while  the  rules 
for  the  Queen's  captivity  were  again  made  more 
strict,  some  of  the  municipal  commissioners  tried 
slightly  to  alleviate  it,  and  by  means  of  M.  de  Hue, 
who  was  at  liberty  in  Paris,  and  the  faithful  Turgi, 
who  remained  in  the  Tower,  some  communications 
passed  between  the  royal  family  and  their  friends. 
The  wife  of  Tison,  who  waited  on  the  Queen,  sus- 
pected and  finally  denounced  these  more  lenient  guard- 
ians, who  were  executed,  the  royal  prisoners  being 
subjected  to  a  close  examination. 

"  On  the  20th  of  April,"  says  Madame  Royale, 
"  my  mother  and  I  had  just  gone  to  bed  when  Hebert 
arrived  with  several  municipals.  We  got  up  hastily, 
and  these  men  read  us  a  decree  of  the  Commune 
directing  that  we  should  be  searched.  My  poor 
brother  was  asleep;  they  tore  him  from  his  bed  under 
the  pretext  of  examining  it.  My  mother  took  him 
up,  shivering  with  cold.     All  they  took  was  a  shop- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  399 

keeper's  card  which  my  mother  had  happened  to  keep, 
a  stick  of  sealing-wax  from  my  aunt,  and  from  me 
une  sacre  emir  de  Jesus  and  a  prayer  for  the  welfare 
of  France.  The  search  lasted  from  half-past  ten  at 
night  till  four  o'clock  in  the  morning." 

The  next  visit  of  the  officials  was  to  Madame  Elisa- 
beth alone;  they  found  in  her  room  a  hat  which  the 
King  had  worn  during  his  imprisonment,  and  which 
she  had  begged  him  to  give  her  as  a  souvenir.  They 
took  it  from  her  in  spite  of  her  entreaties.  "  It  was 
suspicious,"  said  the  cruel  and  contemptible  tyrants. 

The  Dauphin  became  ill  with  fever,  and  it  was  long 
before  his  mother,  who  watched  by  him  night  and 
day,  could  obtain  medicine  or  advice  for  him.  When 
Thierry  was  at  last  allowed  to  see  him  his  treatment 
relieved  the  most  violent  symptoms,  but,  says  Madame 
Royale,  "  his  health  was  never  reestablished.  Want 
of  air  and  exercise  did  him  great  mischief,  as  well  as 
the  kind  of  life  this  poor  child  led,  who  at  eight 
years  of  age  passed  his  days  amidst  the  tears  of  his 
friends,  and  in  constant  anxiety  and  agony." 

While  the  Dauphin's  health  was  causing  his  family 
such  alarm,  they  were  deprived  of  the  services  of 
Tison's  wife,  who  became  ill,  and  finally  insane,  and 
was  removed  to  the  Hotel  Dieu,  where  her  ravings 
were  reported  to  the  Assembly  and  made  the  ground 
of  accusations  against  the  royal  prisoners.  No  woman 
took  her  place,  and  the  Princesses  themselves  made 
their  beds,  swept  their  rooms,  and  waited  upon  the 
Queen. 

Far  worse  punishments  than  menial  work  were 
prepared  for  them.  On  3d  July  a  decree  of  the 
Convention  ordered  that  the  Dauphin  should  be 
separated  from  his  family  and  "  placed  in  the  most 
secure  apartment  of  the  Tower."  As  soon  as  he 
heard  this   decree  pronounced,   says   his   sister,   "  he 


4oo  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

threw  himself  into  my  mother's  arms,  and  with  vio- 
lent cries  entreated  not  to  be  parted  from  her.  My 
mother  would  not  let  her  son  go,  and  she  actually 
defended  against  the  efforts  of  the  officers  the  bed  in 
which  she  had  placed  him.  The  men  threatened  to 
call  up  the  guard  and  use  violence.  My  mother 
exclaimed  that  they  had  better  kill  her  than  tear 
her  child  from  her.  At  last  they  threatened  our 
lives,  and  my  mother's  maternal  tenderness  forced 
her  to  the  sacrifice.  My  aunt  and  I  dressed  the 
child,  for  my  poor  mother  had  no  longer  strength 
for  anything.  Nevertheless,  when  he  was  dressed, 
she  took  him  up  in  her  arms  and  delivered  him  her- 
self to  the  officers,  bathing  him  with  her  tears,  fore- 
seeing that  she  was  never  to  behold  him  again.  The 
poor  little  fellow  embraced  us  all  tenderly,  and  was 
carried  away  in  a  flood  of  tears.  My  mother's  horror 
was  extreme  when  she  heard  that  Simon,  a  shoemaker 
by  trade,  whom  she  had  seen  as  a  municipal  officer  in 
the  Temple,  was  the  person  to  whom  her  child  was 
confided.  .  .  .  The  officers  now  no  longer  remained 
in  my  mother's  apartment;  they  only  came  three 
times  a  day  to  bring  our  meals  and  examine  the  bolts 
and  bars  of  our  windows;  we  were  locked  up  together 
night  and  day.  We  often  went  up  to  the  Tower, 
because  my  brother  went,  too,  from  the  other  side. 
The  only  pleasure  my  mother  enjoyed  was  seeing  him 
through  a  crevice  as  he  passed  at  a  distance.  She 
would  watch  for  hours  together  to  see  him  as  he 
passed.    It  was  her  only  hope,  her  only  thought." 

The  Queen  was  soon  deprived  even  of  this  melan- 
choly consolation.  On  ist  August,  1793,  it  was  re- 
solved that  she  should  be  tried.  Robespierre  opposed 
the  measure,  but  Barere  roused  into  action  that  deep- 
rooted  hatred  of  the  Queen  which  not  even  the  sacri- 
fice of  her  life  availed  to  eradicate.     "  Why  do  the 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  401 

enemies  of  the  Republic  still  hope  for  success  ?  "  he 
asked.  "  Is  it  because  we  have  too  long  forgotten 
the  crimes  of  the  Austrian?  The  children  of  Louis 
the  Conspirator  are  hostages  for  the  Republic  .  .  . 
but  behind  them  lurks  a  woman  who  has  been  the 
cause  of  all  the  disasters  of  France." 

At  two  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  following 
day,  the  municipal  officers  "  awoke  us,"  says  Madame 
Royale,  "  to  read  to  my  mother  the  decree  of  the 
Convention,  which  ordered  her  removal  to  the  Con- 
ciergerie,  preparatory  to  her  trial.  She  heard  it 
without  visible  emotion,  and  without  speaking  a 
single  word.  My  aunt  and  I  immediately  asked 
to  be  allowed  to  accompany  my  mother,  but  this  favour 
was  refused  us.  All  the  time  my  mother  was  making 
up  a  bundle  of  clothes  to  take  with  her,  these  officers 
never  left  her.  She  was  even  obliged  to  dress  herself 
before  them,  and  they  asked  for  her  pockets,  taking 
away  the  trifles  they  contained.  She  embraced  me, 
charging  me  to  keep  up  my  spirits  and  my  courage, 
to  take  tender  care  of  my  aunt,  and  obey  her  as  a 
second  mother.  She  then  threw  herself  into  my 
aunt's  arms,  and  recommended  her  children  to  her 
care;  my  aunt  replied  to  her  in  a  whisper,  and  she 
was  then  hurried  away.  In  leaving  the  Temple  she 
struck  her  head  against  the  wicket,  not  having 
stooped  low  enough.  The  officers  asked  whether  she 
had  hurt  herself.    '  No,'  she  replied,  '  nothing  can  hurt 


The  Last  Moments  of  Marie  Antoinette 

We  have  already  seen  what  changes  had  been  made 
in  the  Temple.  Marie  Antoinette  had  been  separated 
from  her  sister,  her  daughter,  and  her  son,  by  virtue 
of  a  decree  which  ordered  the  trial  and  exile  of  the 


402  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

last  members  of  the  family  of  the  Bourbons.  She 
had  been  removed  to  the  Conciergerie,  and  there, 
alone  in  a  narrow  prison,  she  was  reduced  to  what 
was  strictly  necessary,  like  the  other  prisoners.  The 
imprudence  of  a  devoted  friend  had  rendered  her  situ- 
ation still  more  irksome.  Michonnis,  a  member  of 
the  municipality,  in  whom  she  had  excited  a  warm 
interest,  was  desirous  of  introducing  to  her  a  person 
who,  he  said,  wished  to  see  her  out  of  curiosity. 
This  man,  a  courageous  emigrant,  threw  to  her  a  car- 
nation, in  which  was  enclosed  a  slip  of  very  fine 
paper  with  these  words :  "  Your  friends  are  ready'' 
— false  hope,  and  equally  dangerous  for  her  who 
received  it,  and  for  him  who  gave  it !  Michonnis 
and  the  emigrant  were  detected  and  forthwith  appre- 
hended; and  the  vigilance  exercised  in  regard  to  the 
unfortunate  prisoner  became  from  that  day  more 
rigorous  than  ever.  Gendarmes  were  to  mount  guard 
incessantly  at  the  door  of  her  prison,  and  they  were 
expressly  forbidden  to  answer  anything  that  she  might 
say  to  them. 

That  wretch  Hebert,  the  deputy  of  Chaumette,  and 
editor  of  the  disgusting  paper  Pere  Duchesne,  a  writer 
of  the  party  of  which  Vincent,  Ronsin,  Varlet,  and 
Leclerc  were  the  leaders, — Hebert  had  made  it  his 
particular  business  to  torment  the  unfortunate  remnant 
of  the  dethroned  family.  He  asserted  that  the  family 
of  the  tyrant  ought  not  to  be  better  treated  than  any 
sans-cnlotte  family;  and  he  had  caused  a  resolution  to 
be  passed  by  which  the  sort  of  luxury  in  which  the 
prisoners  in  the  Temple  were  maintained  was  to  be 
suppressed.  They  were  no  longer  to  be  allowed 
either  poultry  or  pastry;  they  were  reduced  to  one 
sort  of  aliment  for  breakfast,  and  to  soup  or  broth 
and  a  single  dish  for  dinner,  to  two  dishes  for  supper, 
and  half  a  bottle  of  wine  apiece.    Tallow  candles  were 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  403 

to  be  furnished  instead  of  wax,  pewter  instead  of  sil- 
ver plate,  and  delft  ware  instead  of  porcelain.  The 
wood  and  water  carriers  alone  were  permitted  to  enter 
their  room,  and  that  only  accompanied  by  two  com- 
missioners. Their  food  was  to  be  introduced  to  them 
by  means  of  a  turning  box.  The  numerous  establish- 
ment was  reduced  to  a  cook  and  an  assistant,  two 
men-servants,  and  a  woman-servant  to  attend  to  the 
linen. 

As  soon  as  this  resolution  was  passed,  Hebert  had 
repaired  to  the  Temple  and  inhumanly  taken  away 
from  the  unfortunate  prisoners  even  the  most  trifling 
articles  to  which  they  attached  a  high  value.  Eighty 
louis  which  Madame  Elisabeth  had  in  reserve,  and 
which  she  had  received  from  Madame  de  Lamballe, 
were  also  taken  away.  No  one  is  more  dangerous, 
more  cruel,  than  the  man  without  acquirements,  with- 
out education,  clothed  with  a  recent  authority.  If, 
above  all,  he  possess  a  base  nature,  if,  like  Hebert, 
who  was  check-taker  at  the  door  of  a  theatre,  and 
embezzled  money  out  of  the  receipts,  he  be  destitute 
of  natural  morality,  and  if  he  leap  all  at  once  from 
the  mud  of  his  condition  into  power,  he  is  as  mean  as 
he  is  atrocious.  Such  was  Hebert  in  his  conduct  at 
the  Temple.  He  did  not  confine  himself  to  the 
annoyances  which  we  have  mentioned.  He  and  some 
others  conceived  the  idea  of  separating  the  young 
Prince  from  his  aunt  and  sister.  A  shoemaker 
named  Simon  and  his  wife  were  the  instructors  to 
whom  it  was  deemed  right  to  consign  him  for  the 
purpose  of  giving  him  a  sans-culotte  education. 
Simon  and  his  wife  were  shut  up  in  the  Temple,  and, 
becoming  prisoners  with  the  unfortunate  child,  were 
directed  to  bring  him  up  in  their  own  way.  Their 
food  was  better  than  that  of  the  Princesses,  and  they 
shared  the  table  of  the  municipal  commissioners  who 


404  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

were  on  duty.  Simon  was  permitted  to  go  down, 
accompanied  by  two  commissioners,  to  the  court  of 
the  Temple,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  the  Dauphin  a 
little  exercise. 

Hebert  conceived  the  infamous  idea  of  wringing 
from  this  boy  revelations  to  criminate  his  unhappy 
mother.  Whether  this  wretch  imputed  to  the  child 
false  revelations,  or  abused  his  tender  age  and  his 
condition  to  extort  from  him  what  admissions  soever 
he  pleased,  he  obtained  a  revolting  deposition;  and 
as  the  youth  of  the  Prince  did  not  admit  of  his  being 
brought  before  the  tribunal,  Hebert  appeared  and  de- 
tailed the  infamous  particulars  which  he  had  himself 
either  dictated  or  invented. 

It  was  on  the  14th  of  October  that  Marie  Antoi- 
nette appeared  before  her  judges.  Dragged  before 
the  sanguinary  tribunal  by  inexorable  revolutionary 
vengeance,  she  appeared  there  without  any  chance  of 
acquittal,  for  it  was  not  to  obtain  her  acquittal  that 
the  Jacobins  had  brought  her  before  it.  It  was 
necessary,  however,  to  make  some  charges.  Fouquier 
therefore  collected  the  rumours  current  among  the 
populace  ever  since  the  arrival  of  the  Princess  in 
France,  and,  in  the  act  of  accusation,  he  charged 
her  with  having  plundered  the  exchequer,  first  for 
her  pleasures,  and  afterwards  in  order  to  transmit 
money  to  her  brother,  the  Emperor.  He  insisted 
on  the  scenes  of  the  5th  and  6th  of  October,  and  on 
the  dinners  of  the  Life  Guards,  alleging  that  she 
had  at  that  period  framed  a  plot,  which  obliged  the 
people  to  go  to  Versailles  to  frustrate  it.  He  after- 
wards accused  her  of  having  governed  her  husband, 
interfered  in  the  choice  of  ministers,  conducted  the 
intrigues  with  the  deputies  gained  by  the  Court,  pre- 
pared the  journey  to  Varennes,  provoked  the  war, 
and  transmitted  to  the  enemy's  generals  all  our  plans 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  405 

of  campaign.  He  further  accused  her  of  having  pre- 
pared a  new  conspiracy  on  the  10th  of  August,  of 
having  on  that  day  caused  the  people  to  be  fired 
upon,  having  induced  her  husband  to  defend  himself 
by  taxing  him  with  cowardice;  lastly,  of  having 
never  ceased  to  plot  and  correspond  with  foreigners 
since  her  captivity  in  the  Temple,  and  of  having 
there  treated  her  young  son  as  King.  We  here 
observe  how,  on  the  terrible  day  of  long-deferred 
vengeance,  when  subjects  at  length  break  forth  and 
strike  such  of  their  princes  as  have  not  deserved  the 
blow,  everything  is  distorted  and  converted  into  crime. 
We  see  how  the  profusion  and  fondness  for  pleasure, 
so  natural  to  a  young  princess,  how  her  attachment 
to  her  native  country,  her  influence  over  her  husband, 
her  regrets,  always  more  indiscreet  in  a  woman  than 
a  man,  nay,  even  her  bolder  courage,  appeared  to  their 
inflamed  or  malignant  imaginations. 

It  was  necessary  to  produce  witnesses.  Lecointre, 
deputy  of  Versailles,  who  had  seen  what  had  passed 
on  the  5th  and  6th  of  October,  Hebert,  who  had 
frequently  visited  the  Temple,  various  clerks  in  the 
ministerial  offices,  and  several  domestic  servants  of 
the  old  Court  were  summoned.  Admiral  d'Estaing, 
formerly  commandant  of  the  guard  of  Versailles; 
Manuel,  the  ex-procureur  of  the  Commune;  Latour- 
du-Pin,  minister  of  war  in  1789;  the  venerable 
Bailly,  who,  it  was  said,  had  been,  with  La  Fayette, 
an  accomplice  in  the  journey  to  Varennes;  lastly, 
Valaze,  one  of  the  Girondists  destined  to  the  scaffold, 
were  taken  from  their  prisons  and  compelled  to  give 
evidence. 

No  precise  fact  was  elicited.  Some  had  seen  the 
Queen  in  high  spirits  when  the  Life  Guards  testified 
their  attachment;  others  had  seen  her  vexed  and 
dejected  while  being  conducted  to  Paris,  or  brought 


406  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

back  from  Varennes;  these  had  been  present  at 
splendid  festivities  which  must  have  cost  enormous 
sums ;  those  had  heard  it  said  in  the  ministerial 
offices  that  the  Queen  was  adverse  to  the  sanction 
of  the  decrees.  An  ancient  waiting-woman  of  the 
Queen  had  heard  the  Due  de  Coigny  say,  in  1788, 
that  the  Emperor  had  already  received  two  hundred 
millions  from  France  to  make  war  upon  the  Turks. 

The  cynical  Hebert,  being  brought  before  the 
unfortunate  Queen,  dared  at  length  to  prefer  the 
charges  wrung  from  the  young  Prince.  He  said 
that  Charles  Capet  had  given  Simon  an  account  of 
the  journey  to  Varennes,  and  mentioned  La  Fayette 
and  Bailly  as  having  cooperated  in  it.  He  then 
added  that  this  boy  was  addicted  to  odious  and  very 
premature  vices  for  his  age;  that  he  had  been  sur- 
prised by  Simon,  who,  on  questioning  him,  learned 
that  he  derived  from  his  mother  the  vices  in  which 
he  indulged.  Hebert  said  that  it  was  no  doubt  the 
intention  of  Marie  Antoinette,  by  weakening  thus 
early  the  physical  constitution  of  her  son,  to  secure 
to  herself  the  means  of  ruling  him  in  case  he  should 
ever  ascend  the  throne.  The  rumours  which  had 
been  whispered  for  twenty  years  by  a  malicious 
Court  had  given  the  people  a  most  unfavourable 
opinion  of  the  morals  of  the  Queen.  That  audience, 
however,  though  wholly  Jacobin,  was  disgusted  at  the 
accusations  of  Hebert.  He  nevertheless  persisted  in 
supporting  them.  The  unhappy  mother  made  no 
reply.  Urged  anew  to  explain  herself,  she  said,  with 
extraordinary  emotion,  "  I  thought  that  human  na- 
ture would  excuse  me  from  answering  such  an  impu- 
tation, but  I  appeal  from  it  to  the  heart  of  every 
mother  here  present."  This  noble  and  simple  reply 
affected  all  who  heard  it. 

In  the  depositions  of  the  witnesses,   however,   all 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  407 

was  not  so  bitter  for  Marie  Antoinette.  The  brave 
D'Estaing,  whose  enemy  she  had  been,  would  not 
say  anything  to  inculpate  her,  and  spoke  only  of  the 
courage  which  she  had  shown  on  the  5th  and  6th  of 
October,  and  of  the  noble  resolution  which  she  had 
expressed,  to  die  beside  her  husband  rather  than  fly. 
Manuel,  in  spite  of  his  enmity  to  the  Court  during  the 
time  of  the  Legislative  Assembly,  declared  that  he 
could  not  say  anything  against  the  accused.  When 
the  venerable  Bailly  was  brought  forward,  who 
formerly  so  often  predicted  to  the  Court  the  calamities 
which  its  imprudence  must  produce,  he  appeared  pain- 
fully affected;  and  when  he  was  asked  if  he  knew  the 
wife  of  Capet,  "  Yes,"  said  he,  bowing  respectfully, 
"  I  have  known  Madame."  He  declared  that  he 
knew  nothing,  and  maintained  that  the  declarations 
extorted  from  the  young  Prince  relative  to  the  jour- 
ney to  Varennes  were  false.  In  recompense  for  his 
deposition  he  was  assailed  with  outrageous  reproaches, 
from  which  he  might  judge  what  fate  would  soon  be 
awarded  to  himself. 

In  all  the  evidence  there  appeared  but  two  serious 
facts,  attested  by  Latour-du-Pin  and  Valaze,  who  de- 
posed to  them  because  they  could  not  help  it.  Latour- 
du-Pin  declared  that  Marie  Antoinette  had  applied  to 
him  for  an  accurate  statement  of  the  armies  while  he 
was  minister  of  war.  Valaze,  always  cold,  but  re- 
spectful towards  misfortune,  would  not  say  anything 
to  criminate  the  accused;  yet  he  could  not  help  de- 
claring that,  as  a  member  of  the  commission  of 
twenty-four,  being  charged  with  his  colleagues  to 
examine  the  papers  found  at  the  house  of  Septeuil, 
treasurer  of  the  civil  list,  he  had  seen  bonds  for 
various  sums  signed  Antoinette,  which  was  very  na- 
tural; but  he  added  that  he  had  also  seen  a  letter  in 
which  the  minister  requested  the  King  to  transmit  to 


4o8  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  Queen  the  copy  of  the  plan  of  campaign  which  he 
had  in  his  hands.  The  most  unfavourable  construc- 
tion was  immediately  put  upon  these  two  facts,  the  ap- 
plication for  a  statement  of  the  armies,  and  the  com- 
munication of  the  plan  of  campaign;  and  it  was  con- 
cluded that  they  could  not  be  wanted  for  any  other 
purpose  than  to  be  sent  to  the  enemy,  for  it  was  not 
supposed  that  a  young  princess  should  turn  her  atten- 
tion, merely  for  her  own  satisfaction,  to  matters  of 
administration  and  military  plans.  After  these 
depositions,  several  others  were  received  respecting 
the  expenses  of  the  Court,  the  influence  of  the  Queen 
in  public  affairs,  the  scene  of  the  ioth  of  August,  and 
what  had  passed  in  the  Temple;  and  the  most  vague 
rumours  and  most  trivial  circumstances  were  eagerly 
caught  at  as  proofs. 

Marie  Antoinette  frequently  repeated,  with  presence 
of  mind  and  firmness,  that  there  was  no  precise  fact 
against  her;  that,  besides,  though  the  wife  of  Louis 
XVI.,  she  was  not  answerable  for  any  of  the  acts  of 
his  reign.  Fouquier  nevertheless  declared  her  to  be 
sufficiently  convicted;  Chaveau-Lagarde  made  un- 
availing efforts  to  defend  her;  and  the  unfortunate 
Queen  was  condemned  to  suffer  the  same  fate  as  her 
husband. 

Conveyed  back  to  the  Conciergerie,  she  there  passed 
in  tolerable  composure  the  night  preceding  her  execu- 
tion, and  on  the  morning  of  the  following  day,  the 
16th  of  October,  she  was  conducted,  amidst  a  great 
concourse  of  the  populace,  to  the  fatal  spot  where,  ten 
months  before,  Louis  XVI.  had  perished.  She  listened 
with  calmness  to  the  exhortations  of  the  ecclesiastic 
who  accompanied  her,  and  cast  an  indifferent  look  at 
the  people  who  had  so  often  applauded  her  beauty  and 
her  grace,  and  who  now  as  warmly  applauded  her  exe- 
cution.    On  reaching  the  foot  of  the  scaffold  she  per- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  409 

ceived  the  Tuileries,  and  appeared  to  be  moved;  but 
she  hastened  to  ascend  the  fatal  ladder,  and  gave  her- 
self up  with  courage  to  the  executioner.  The  infa- 
mous wretch  exhibited  her  head  to  the  people,  as  he 
was  accustomed  to  do  when  he  had  sacrificed  an  illus- 
trious victim. 

The  Last  Separation. — Execution  of  Madame  Elisa- 
beth.— Death  of  the  Dauphin 

The  two  Princesses  left  in  the  Temple  were  now 
almost  inconsolable;  they  spent  days  and  nights  in 
tears,  whose  only  alleviation  was  that  they  were  shed 
together.  ''  The  company  of  my  aunt,  whom  I  loved 
so  tenderly,"  said  Madame  Royale,  "  was  a  great  com- 
fort to  me.  But  alas !  all  that  I  loved  was  perishing 
around  me,  and  I  was  soon  to  lose  her  also.  ...  In 
the  beginning  of  September  I  had  an  illness  caused 
solely  by  my  anxiety  about  my  mother;  I  never  heard 
a  drum  beat  that  I  did  not  expect  another  3d  of 
September." 

In  the  course  of  the  month  the  rigour  of  their  cap- 
tivity was  much  increased.  The  Commune  ordered 
that  they  should  only  have  one  room;  that  Tison 
(who  had  done  the  heaviest  of  the  household  work 
for  them,  and  since  the  kindness  they  showed  to  his 
insane  wife  had  occasionally  given  them  tidings  of 
the  Dauphin)  should  be  imprisoned  in  the  turret;  that 
they  should  be  supplied  with  only  the  barest  necessa- 
ries; and  that  no  one  should  enter  their  room  save 
to  carry  water  and  firewood.  Their  quantity  of  firing 
was  reduced,  and  they  were  not  allowed  candles. 
They  were  also  forbidden  to  go  on  the  leads,  and 
their  large  sheets  were  taken  away,  "  lest  " — notwith- 
standing the  gratings  !• — "  they  should  escape  from  the 
windows." 


410  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

On  8th  October,  1793,  Madame  Royale  was  ordered 
to  go  down-stairs,  that  she  might  be  interrogated  by 
some  municipal  officers.  "  My  aunt,  who  was  greatly 
affected,  would  have  followed,  but  they  stopped  her. 
She  asked  whether  I  should  be  permitted  to  come  up 
again;  Chaumette  assured  her  that  I  should.  'You 
may  trust/  said  he,  '  the  word  of  an  honest  repub- 
lican. She  shall  return.'  I  soon  found  myself  in 
my  brother's  room,  whom  I  embraced  tenderly;  but 
we  were  torn  asunder,  and  I  was  obliged  to  go  into 
another  room.  .  .  .  Chaumette  then  questioned  me 
about  a  thousand  shocking  things  of  which  they  ac- 
cused my  mother  and  aunt;  I  was  so  indignant  at 
hearing  such  horrors  that,  terrified  as  I  was,  I  could 
not  help  exclaiming  that  they  were  infamous  false- 
hoods. But  in  spite  of  my  tears  they  still  pressed 
their  questions.  There  were  some  things  which  I  did 
not  comprehend,  but  of  which  I  understood  enough 
to  make  me  weep  with  indignation  and  horror.  .  .  . 
They  then  asked  me  about  Varennes,  and  other  things. 
I  answered  as  well  as  I  could  without  implicating  any- 
body. I  had  always  heard  my  parents  say  that  it 
were  better  to  die  than  to  implicate  anybody."  When 
the  examination  was  over  the  Princess  begged  to  be 
allowed  to  join  her  mother,  but  Chaumette  said  he 
could  not  obtain  permission  for  her  to  do  so.  She 
was  then  cautioned  to  say  nothing  about  her  exam- 
ination to  her  aunt,  who  was  next  to  appear  before 
them.  Madame  Elisabeth,  her  niece  declares,  "  re- 
plied with  still  more  contempt  to  their  shocking  ques- 
tions." 

The  only  intimation  of  the  Queen's  fate  which  her 
daughter  and  her  sister-in-law  were  allowed  to  receive 
was  through  hearing  her  sentence  cried  by  the  news- 
man. But  "  we  could  not  persuade  ourselves  that 
she  was  dead,"  writes  Madame  Royale.     "  A  hope,  so 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  411 

natural  to  the  unfortunate,  persuaded  us  that  she 
must  have  been  saved.  For  eighteen  months  I  re- 
mained in  this  cruel  suspense.  We  learnt  also  by 
the  cries  of  the  newsman  the  death  of  the  Due  d' 
Orleans.  It  was  the  only  piece  of  news  that  reached 
us  during  the  whole  winter." 

The  severity  with  which  the  prisoners  were  treated 
was  carried  into  every  detail  of  their  life.  The  officers 
who  guarded  them  took  away  their  chessmen  and 
cards  because  some  of  them  were  named  kings  and 
queens,  and  all  the  books  with  coats  of  arms  on 
them;  they  refused  to  get  ointment  for  a  gathering 
on  Madame  Elisabeth's  arm;  they  would  not  allow 
her  to  make  an  herb-tea  which  she  thought  would 
strengthen  her  niece;  they  declined  to  supply  fish  or 
eggs  on  fast-days  or  during  Lent,  bringing  only  coarse 
fat  meat,  and  brutally  replying  to  all  remonstrances, 
"  None  but  fools  believe  in  that  stuff  nowadays." 
Madame  Elisabeth  never  made  the  officials  another 
request,  but  reserved  some  of  the  bread  and  cafe- 
au-lait  from  her  breakfast  for  her  second  meal. 
The  time  during  which  she  could  be  thus  tormented 
was  growing  short. 

On  9th  May,  1794,  as  the  Princesses  were  going  to 
bed,  the  outside  bolts  of  the  door  were  unfastened  and 
a  loud  knocking  was  heard.  "  When  my  aunt  was 
dressed,"  says  Madame  Royale,  "  she  opened  the  door, 
and  they  said  to  her,  '  Citoyenne,  come  down.'  '  And 
my  niece?'  'We  shall  take  care  of  her  afterwards/ 
She  embraced  me,  and  to  calm  my  agitation  promised 
to  return.  '  No,  citoyenne,'  said  the  men,  '  bring  your 
bonnet;  you  shall  not  return.'  They  overwhelmed 
her  with  abuse,  but  she  bore  it  patiently,  embracing 
me,  and  exhorting  me  to  trust  in  Heaven,  and  never  to 
forget  the  last  commands  of  my  father  and  mother." 

Madame  Elisabeth  was  then  taken  to  the  Concierge- 


412  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

rie,  where  she  was  interrogated  by  the  vice-president 
at  midnight,  and  then  allowed  to  take  some  hours' 
rest  on  the  bed  on  which  Marie  Antoinette  had  slept 
for  the  last  time.  In  the  morning  she  was  brought 
before  the  tribunal,  with  twenty-four  other  prisoners, 
of  varying  ages  and  both  sexes,  some  of  whom  had 
once  been  frequently  seen  at  Court. 

"Of  what  has  Elisabeth  to  complain?"  Fouquier- 
Tinville  satirically  asked.  "  At  the  foot  of  the  guillo- 
tine, surrounded  by  faithful  nobility,  she  may  imagine 
herself  again  at  Versailles." 

"  You  call  my  brother  a  tyrant,"  the  Princess  re- 
plied to  her  accuser;  "  if  he  had  been  what  you  say, 
you  would  not  be  where  you  are,  nor  I  before  you !  " 

She  was  sentenced  to  death,  and  showed  neither 
surprise  nor  grief.  "  I  am  ready  to  die,"  she  said, 
"  happy  in  the  prospect  of  rejoining  in  a  better  world 
those  whom  I  loved  on  earth." 

On  being  taken  to  the  room  where  those  condemned 
to  suffer  at  the  same  time  as  herself  were  assembled 
she  spoke  to  them  with  so  much  piety  and  resignation 
that  they  were  encouraged  by  her  example  to  show 
calmness  and  courage  like  her  own.  The  women, 
on  leaving  the  cart,  begged  to  embrace  her,  and  she 
said  some  words  of  comfort  to  each  in  turn  as  they 
mounted  the  scaffold,  which  she  was  not  allowed  to 
ascend  till  all  her  companions  had  been  executed  be- 
fore her  eyes. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  imagine  my  distress  at  finding 
myself  separated  from  my  aunt,"  said  Madame 
Royale.  "  Since  I  had  been  able  to  appreciate  her 
merits,  I  saw  in  her  nothing  but  religion,  gentleness, 
meekness,  modesty,  and  a  devoted  attachment  to  her 
family!  she  sacrificed  her  life  for  them,  since  nothing 
could  persuade  her  to  leave  the  King  and  Queen.  I 
never  can  be  sufficiently  grateful  to  her  for  her  good- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  413 

ness  to  me,  which  ended  only  with  her  life.  She 
looked  on  me  as  her  child,  and  I  honoured  and  loved 
her  as  a  second  mother.  I  was  thought  to  be  very- 
like  her  in  countenance,  and  I  feel  conscious  that  I 
have  something  of  her  character.  Would  to  God  I 
might  imitate  her  virtues,  and  hope  that  I  may  here- 
after deserve  to  meet  her,  as  well  as  my  dear  parents, 
in  the  bosom  of  our  Creator,  where  I  cannot  doubt 
that  they  enjoy  the  reward  of  their  virtuous  lives  and 
meritorious  deaths." 

Madame  Royale  vainly  begged  to  be  allowed  to 
rejoin  her  mother  or  her  aunt,  or  at  least  to  know 
their  fate.  The  municipal  officers  would  tell  her 
nothing,  and  rudely  refused  her  request  to  have  a 
woman  placed  with  her.  "  I  asked  nothing  but  what 
seemed  indispensable,  though  it  was  often  harshly 
refused,"  she  says.  "  But  I  at  least  could  keep  my- 
self clean.  I  had  soap  and  water,  and  carefully  swept 
out  my  room  every  day.  I  had  no  light,  but  in  the 
long  days  I  did  not  feel  this  privation  much.  ...  I 
had  some  religious  works  and  travels,  which  I  had 
read  over  and  over.  I  had  also  some  knitting,  qui 
m'ennuyait  beauconp."  Once,  she  believes,  Robes- 
pierre visited  her  prison.  "  The  officers  showed  him 
great  respect;  the  people  in  the  Tower  did  not  know 
him,  or  at  least  would  not  tell  me  who  he  was.  He 
stared  insolently  at  me,  glanced  at  my  books,  and, 
after  joining  the  municipal  officers  in  a  search,  re- 
tired." 

When  Laurent  was  appointed  by  the  Convention  to 
the  charge  of  the  young  prisoners,  Madame  Royale 
was  treated  with  more  consideration.  "  He  was 
always  courteous,"  she  says;  he  restored  her  tinder- 
box,  gave  her  fresh  books,  and  allowed  her  candles 
and  as  much  firewood  as  she  wanted,  "  which  pleased 
me  greatly."     This  simple  expression  of  relief  gives 


4i4  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

a  clearer  idea  of  what  the  delicate  girl  must  have 
suffered  than  a  volume  of  complaints. 

But  however  hard  Madame  Royale's  lot  might  be, 
that  of  the  Dauphin  was  infinitely  harder.  Though 
only  eight  years  old  when  he  entered  the  Temple,  he 
was  by  nature  and  education  extremely  precocious; 
"  his  memory  retained  everything,  and  his  sensitive- 
ness comprehended  everything."  His  features  "  re- 
called the  somewhat  effeminate  look  of  Louis  XV., 
and  the  Austrian  hauteur  of  Maria  Theresa;  his 
blue  eyes,  aquiline  nose,  elevated  nostrils,  well-defined 
mouth,  pouting  lips,  chestnut  hair  parted  in  the  mid- 
dle and  falling  in  thick  curls  on  his  shoulders,  re- 
sembled his  mother  before  her  years  of  tears  and  tor- 
ture. All  the  beauty  of  his  race,  by  both  descents, 
seemed  to  reappear  in  him."  For  some  time  the 
care  of  his  parents  preserved  his  health  and  cheerful- 
ness even  in  the  Temple;  but  his  constitution  was 
weakened  by  the  fever  recorded  by  his  sister,  and  his 
gaolers  were  determined  that  he  should  never  regain 
strength. 

"  What  does  the  Convention  intend  to  do  with 
him?"  asked  Simon,  when  the  innocent  victim  was 
placed  in  his  clutches.     "Transport  him?" 

"  No." 

"Kill  him?" 

"  No." 

"  Poison  him  ?  " 

"  No." 

"What  then?" 

"  Why,  get  rid  of  him." 

For  such  a  purpose  they  could  not  have  chosen 
their  instruments  better.  "  Simon  and  his  wife  cut 
off  all  those  fair  locks  that  had  been  his  youthful 
glory  and  his  mother's  pride.  This  worthy  pair 
stripped  him  of  the  mourning  he  wore  for  his  father; 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  415 

and  as  they  did  so,  they  called  it  '  playing  at  the  game 
of  the  spoiled  king.'  They  alternately  induced  him 
to  commit  excesses,  and  then  half  starved  him.  They 
beat  him  mercilessly;  nor  was  the  treatment  by  night 
less  brutal  than  that  by  day.  As  soon  as  the  weary 
boy  had  sunk  into  his  first  profound  sleep,  they  would 
loudly  call  him  by  name,  '  Capet !  Capet ! '  Startled, 
nervous,  bathed  in  perspiration,  or  sometimes  trem- 
bling with  cold,  he  would  spring  up,  rush  through  the 
dark,  and  present  himself  at  Simon's  bedside,  mur- 
muring, tremblingly,  '  I  am  here,  citizen.'  '  Come 
nearer;  let  me  feel  you.'  He  would  approach  the 
bed  as  he  was  ordered,  although  he  knew  the  treat- 
ment that  awaited  him.  Simon  would  buffet  him  on 
the  head,  or  kick  him  away,  adding  the  remark,  '  Get 
to  bed  again,  wolf's  cub;  I  only  wanted  to  know  that 
you  were  safe.'  On  one  of  these  occasions,  when  the 
child  had  fallen  half  stunned  upon  his  own  miserable 
couch,  and  lay  there  groaning  and  faint  with  pain, 
Simon  roared  out  with  a  laugh,  '  Suppose  you  were 
king,  Capet,  what  would  you  do  to  me  ?  '  The  child 
thought  of  his  father's  dying  words,  and  said,  '  I 
would  forgive  you.'  " 

The  change  in  the  young  Prince's  mode  of  life,  and 
the  cruelties  and  caprices  to  which  he  was  subjected, 
soon  made  him  fall  ill,  says  his  sister.  "  Simon  forced 
him  to  eat  to  excess,  and  to  drink  large  quantities  of 
wine,  which  he  detested.  .  .  .  He  grew  extremely 
fat  without  increasing  in  height  or  strength."  His 
aunt  and  sister,  deprived  of  the  pleasure  of  tending 
him,  had  the  pain  of  hearing  his  childish  voice  raised 
in  the  abominable  songs  his  gaolers  taught  him.  The 
brutality  of  Simon  "  depraved  at  once  the  body  and 
soul  of  his  pupil.  He  called  him  the  young  wolf  of 
the  Temple.  He  treated  him  as  the  young  of  wild 
animals  are  treated  when  taken  from  the  mother  and 


416  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

reduced  to  captivity, — at  once  intimidated  by  blows 
and  enervated  by  taming.  He  punished  for  sensi- 
bility; he  rewarded  meanness;  he  encouraged  vice; 
he  made  the  child  wait  on  him  at  table,  sometimes 
striking  him  on  the  face  with  a  knotted  towel,  some- 
times raising  the  poker  and  threatening  to  strike  him 
with  it." 

Yet  when .  Simon  was  removed  the  poor  young 
Prince's  condition  became  even  worse.  His  horrible 
loneliness  induced  an  apathetic  stupor  to  which  any 
suffering  would  have  been  preferable.  "  He  passed 
his  days  without  any  kind  of  occupation;  they  did 
not  allow  him  light  in  the  evening.  His  keepers 
never  approached  him  but  to  give  him  food;"  and 
on  the  rare  occasions  when  they  took  him  to  the 
platform  of  the  Tower,  he  was  unable  or  unwilling  to 
move  about.  When,  in  November,  1794,  a  commis- 
sary named  Gomin  arrived  at  the  Temple,  disposed  to 
treat  the  little  prisoner  with  kindness,  it  was  too  late. 
"  He  took  extreme  care  of  my  brother,"  says  Madame 
Royale.  "  For  a  long  time  the  unhappy  child  had 
been  shut  up  in  darkness,  and  he  was  dying  of  fright. 
He  was  very  grateful  for  the  attentions  of  Gomin, 
and  became  much  attached  to  him."  But  his  phys- 
ical condition  was  alarming,  and,  owing  to  Gomin's 
representations,  a  commission  was  instituted  to  exam- 
ine him.  "  The  commissioners  appointed  were  Har- 
mond,  Mathieu,  and  Reverchon,  who  visited  '  Louis 
Charles,'  as  he  was  now  called,  in  the  month  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1795.  They  found  the  young  Prince  seated  at 
a  square  deal  table,  at  which  he  was  playing  with  some 
dirty  cards,  making  card  houses  and  the  like, — the 
materials  having  been  furnished  him,  probably,  that 
they  might  figure  in  the  report  as  evidences  of  indul- 
gence. He  did  not  look  up  from  the  table  as  the  com- 
missioners entered.     He  was  in  a  slate-coloured  dress. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  417 

bare-headed;  the  room  was  reported  as  clean,  the  bed 
in  good  condition,  the  linen  fresh;  his  clothes  were 
also  reported  as  new;  but,  in  spite  of  all  these  asser- 
tions, it  is  well  known  that  his  bed  had  not  been 
made  for  months,  that  he  had  not  left  his  room,  nor 
was  permitted  to  leave  it,  for  any  purpose  whatever, 
that  it  was  consequently  uninhabitable,  and  that  he 
was  covered  with  vermin  and  with  sores.  The  swell- 
ings at  his  knees  alone  were  sufficient  to  disable  him 
from  walking.  One  of  the  commissioners  approached 
the  young  Prince  respectfully.  The  latter  did  not 
raise  his  head.  Harmond  in  a  kind  voice  begged  him 
to  speak  to  them.  The  eyes  of  the  boy  remained  fixed 
on  the  table  before  him.  They  told  him  of  the  kindly 
intentions  of  the  Government,  of  their  hopes  that  he 
would  yet  be  happy,  and  their  desire  that  he  would 
speak  unreservedly  to  the  medical  man  that  was  to 
visit  him.  He  seemed  to  listen  with  profound  atten- 
tion, but  not  a  single  word  passed  his  lips.  It  was 
an  heroic  principle  that  impelled  that  poor  young 
heart  to  maintain  the  silence  of  a  mute  in  presence  of 
these  men.  He  remembered  too  well  the  days  when 
three  other  commissaries  waited  on  him,  regaled  him 
with  pastry  and  wine,  and  obtained  from  him  that 
hellish  accusation  against  the  mother  that  he  loved. 
He  had  learnt  by  some  means  the  import  of  the  act, 
so  far  as  it  was  an  injury  to  his  mother.  He  now 
dreaded  seeing  again  three  commissaries,  hearing 
again  kind  words,  and  being  treated  again  with  fine 
promises.  Dumb  as  death  itself  he  sat  before  them, 
and  remained  motionless  as  stone,  and  as  mute. 

His  disease  now  made  rapid  progress,  and  Gomin 
and  Lasne,  superintendents  of  the  Temple,  thinking 
it  necessary  to  inform  the  Government  of  the  melan- 
choly condition  of  their  prisoner,  wrote  on  the  regis- 
ter: "Little  Capet  is  unwell."     No  notice  was  taken 


418  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  this  account,  which  was  renewed  next  day  in 
more  urgent  terms :  "  Little  Capet  is  dangerously 
ill."  Still  there  was  no  word  from  beyond  the  walls. 
"  We  must  knock  harder,"  said  the  keepers  to  each 
other,  and  they  added,  "It  is  feared  he  will  not 
live,"  to  the  words  "  dangerously  ill."  At  length,  on 
Wednesday,  6th  May,  1795,  three  days  after  the  first 
report,  the  authorities  appointed  M.  Desault  to  give 
the  invalid  the  assistance  of  his  art.  After  having 
written  down  his  name  on  the  register  he  was  ad- 
mitted to  see  the  Prince.  He  made  a  long  and  very 
attentive  examination  of  the  unfortunate  child,  asked 
him  many  questions  without  being  able  to  obtain  an 
answer,  and  contented  himself  with  prescribing  a  de- 
coction of  hops,  to  be  taken  by  spoonfuls  every  half- 
hour,  from  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  eight  in  the 
evening.  On  the  first  day  the  Prince  steadily  refused 
to  take  it.  In  vain  Gomin  several  times  drank  off 
a  glass  of  the  potion  in  his  presence;  his  example 
proved  as  ineffectual  as  his  words.  Next  day  Lasne 
renewed  his  solicitations.  "  Monsieur  knows  very 
well  that  I  desire  nothing  but  the  good  of  his  health, 
and  he  distresses  me  deeply  by  thus  refusing  to  take 
what  might  contribute  to  it.  I  entreat  him  as  a  fa- 
vour not  to  give  me  this  cause  of  grief."  And  as 
Lasne,  while  speaking,  began  to  taste  the  potion  in 
a  glass,  the  child  took  what  he  offered  him  out  of 
his  hands.  "  You  have,  then,  taken  an  oath  that  I 
should  drink  it,"  said  he,  firmly;  "well,  give  it  me, 
I  will  drink  it."  From  that  moment  he  conformed 
with  docility  to  whatever  was  required  of  him,  but 
the  policy  of  the  Commune  had  attained  its  object; 
help  had  been  withheld  till  it  was  almost  a  mockery 
to  supply  it. 

The  Prince's  weakness  was  excessive;  his  keepers 
could   scarcely  drag  him  to  the  top  of   the  Tower; 


Marie   Antoinette    listening   to   the    act    of   accusation. 

—p.  408 
From  the  painting  by  E.  M.  Ward,  B.A. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  3:19 

walking-  hurt  his  tender  feet,  and  at  every  step  he 
stopped  to  press  the  arm  of  Lasne  with  both  hands 
upon  his  breast.  At  last  he  suffered  so  much  that 
it  was  no  longer  possible  for  him  to  walk,  and  his 
keeper  carried  him  about,  sometimes  on  the  platform, 
and  sometimes  in  the  little  tower,  where  the  royal 
family  had  lived  at  first.  But  the  slight  improve- 
ment to  his  health  occasioned  by  the  change  of  air 
scarcely  compensated  for  the  pain  which  his  fatigue 
gave  him.  On  the  battlement  of  the  platform  nearest 
the  left  turret,  the  rain  had,  by  perseverance  through 
ages,  hollowed  out  a  kind  of  basin.  The  water  that 
fell  remained  there  for  several  days;  and  as,  during 
the  spring  of  1795,  storms  were  of  frequent  occur- 
rence, this  little  sheet  of  water  was  kept  constantly 
supplied.  Whenever  the  child  was  brought  out  upon 
the  platform,  he  saw  a  little  troop  of  sparrows,  which 
used  to  come  to  drink  and  bathe  in  this  reservoir. 
At  first  they  flew  away  at  his  approach,  but  from 
being  accustomed  to  see  him  walking  quietly  there 
every  day,  they  at  last  grew  more  familiar,  and  did 
not  spread  their  wings  for  flight  till  he  came  up  close 
to  them.  They  were  always  the  same,  he  knew  them 
by  sight,  and  perhaps  like  himself  they  were  inhabi- 
tants of  that  ancient  pile.  He  called  them  his  birds; 
and  his  first  action,  when  the  door  into  the  terrace 
was  opened,  was  to  look  towards  that  side, — and  the 
sparrows  were  always  there.  He  delighted  in  their 
chirping,  and  he  must  have  envied  them  their  wings. 

Though  so  little  could  be  done  to  alleviate  his 
sufferings,  a  moral  improvement  was  taking  place  in 
him.  He  was  touched  by  the  lively  interest  dis- 
played by  his  physician,  who  never  failed  to  visit  him 
at  nine  o'clock  every  morning.  He  seemed  pleased 
with  the  attention  paid  him,  and  ended  by  placing 
entire  confidence  in  M.  Desault.     Gratitude  loosened 

Vol.  3  Memoirs— 14 


420  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

his  tongue;  brutality  and  insult  had  failed  to  extort 
a  murmur,  but  kind  treatment  restored  his  speech: 
he  had  no  words  for  anger,  but  he  found  them  to 
express  his  thanks.  M.  Desault  prolonged  his  visits 
as  long  as  the  officers  of  the  municipality  would  per- 
mit. When  they  announced  the  close  of  the  visit, 
the  child,  unwilling  to  beg  them  to  allow  a  longer 
time,  held  back  M.  Desault  by  the  skirt  of  his  coat. 
Suddenly  M.  Desault's  visits  ceased.  Several  days 
passed  and  nothing  was  heard  of  him.  The  keepers 
wondered  at  his  absence,  and  the  poor  little  invalid 
was  much  distressed  at  it.  The  commissary  on  duty 
(M.  Benoist)  suggested  that  it  would  be  proper  to 
send  to  the  physician's  house  to  make  inquiries  as 
to  the  cause  of  so  long  an  absence.  Gomin  and 
Lasne  had  not  yet  ventured  to  follow  this  advice, 
when  next  day  M.  Benoist  was  relieved  by  M.  Bidault, 
who,  hearing  M.  Desault's  name  mentioned  as  he  came 
in,  immediately  said,  "  You  must  not  expect  to  see 
him  any  more;  he  died  yesterday." 

M.  Pelletan,  head  surgeon  of  the  Grand  Hospice  de 
l'Humanite,  was  next  directed  to  attend  the  prisoner, 
and  in  June  he  found  him  in  so  alarming  a  state  that 
he  at  once  asked  for  a  coadjutor,  fearing  to  undertake 
the  responsibility  alone.  The  physician — sent  for 
form's  sake  to  attend  the  dying  child,  as  an  advocate 
is  given  by  law  to  a  criminal  condemned  beforehand — 
blamed  the  officers  of  the  municipality  for  not  having 
removed  the  blind,  which  obstructed  the  light,  and  the 
numerous  bolts,  the  noise  of  which  never  failed  to 
remind  the  victim  of  his  captivity.  That  sound,  which 
always  caused  him  an  involuntary  shudder,  disturbed 
him  in  the  last  mournful  scene  of  his  unparalleled  tor- 
tures. M.  Pelletan  said  authoritatively  to  the  munici- 
pal on  duty,  "If  you  will  not  take  these  bolts  and 
casings  away  at  once,  at  least  you  can  make  no  objec- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  421 

tion  to  our  carrying  the  child  into  another  room,  for 
I  suppose  we  are  sent  here  to  take  charge  of  him." 
The  Prince,  being  disturbed  by  these  words,  spoken 
as  they  were  with  great  animation,  made  a  sign  to  the 
physician  to  come  nearer.  "  Speak  lower,  I  beg  of 
you,"  said  he;  "I  am  afraid  they  will  hear  you  up- 
stairs, and  I  should  be  very  sorry  for  them  to  know 
that  I  am  ill,  as  it  would  give  them  much  uneasiness." 
At  first  the  change  to  a  cheerful  and  airy  room 
revived  the  Prince  and  gave  him  evident  pleasure, 
but  the  improvement  did  not  last.  Next  day  M. 
Pelletan  learned  that  the  Government  had  acceded  to 
his  request  for  a  colleague.  M.  Dumangin,  head  phy- 
sician of  the  Hospice  de  l'Unite,  made  his  appearance 
at  his  house  on  the  morning  of  Sunday,  7th  June,  with 
the  official  despatch  sent  him  by  the  committee  of  pub- 
lic safety.  They  repaired  together  immediately  to 
the  Tower.  On  their  arrival  they  heard  that  the  child, 
whose  weakness  was  excessive,  had  had  a  fainting  fit, 
which  had  occasioned  fears  to  be  entertained  that  his 
end  was  approaching.  He  had  revived  a  little,  how- 
ever, when  the  physicians  went  up  at  about  nine 
o'clock.  Unable  to  contend  with  increasing  exhaus- 
tion, they  perceived  there  was  no  longer  any  hope  of 
prolonging  an  existence  worn  out  by  so  much  suffering, 
and  that  all  their  art  could  effect  would  be  to  soften 
the  last  stage  of  this  lamentable  disease.  While  stand- 
ing by  the  Prince's  bed,  Gomin  noticed  that  he  was 
quietly  crying,  and  asked  him  kindly  what  was  the 
matter.  "  I  am  always  alone,"  he  said.  "  My  dear 
mother  remains  in  the  other  tower."  Night  came, — 
his  last  night, — which  the  regulations  of  the  prison 
condemned  him  to  pass  once  more  in  solitude,  with 
suffering,  his  old  companion,  only  at  his  side.  This 
time,  however,  death,  too,  stood  at  his  pillow.  When 
Gomin  went  up  to  the  child's  room  on  the  morning 


422  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  8th  June,  he  said,  seeing  him  calm,  motionless,  and 
mute : 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  in  pain  just  now?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  am  still  in  pain,  but  not  nearly  so 
much, — the  music  is  so  beautiful!" 

Now  there  was  no  music  to  be  heard,  either  in  the 
Tower  or  anywhere  near. 

Gomin,  astonished,  said  to  him,  "  From  what  direc- 
tion do  you  hear  this  music  ?  " 

"  From  above!  " 

"Have  you  heard  it  long?" 

"Since  you  knelt  down.  Do  you  not  hear  it? 
Listen!  Listen!"  And  the  child,  with  a  nervous 
motion,  raised  his  faltering  hand,  as  he  opened  his 
large  eyes  illuminated  by  delight.  His  poor  keeper, 
unwilling  to  destroy  this  last  sweet  illusion,  appeared 
to  listen  also. 

After  a  few  minutes  of  attention  the  child  again 
started,  and  cried  out,  in  intense  rapture,  "  Amongst 
all  the  voices  I  have  distinguished  that  of  my 
mother! " 

These  were  almost  his  last  words.  At  a  quarter- 
past  two  he  died,  Lasne  only  being  in  the  room 
at  the  time.  Lasne  acquainted  Gomin  and  Damont, 
the  commissary  on  duty,  with  the  event,  and  they 
repaired  to  the  chamber  of  death.  The  poor  little 
royal  corpse  was  carried  from  the  room  into  that 
where  he  had  suffered  so  long, — where  for  two  years 
he  had  never  ceased  to  suffer.  From  this  apartment 
the  father  had  gone  to  the  scaffold,  and  thence  the 
son  must  pass  to  the  burial-ground.  The  remains 
were  laid  out  on  the  bed,  and  the  doors  of  the  apart- 
ment were  set  open, — doors  which  had  remained 
closed  ever  since  the  Revolution  had  seized  on  a  child, 
then  full  of  vigour  and  grace  and  life  and  health! 
At  eight   o'clock   next   morning    (9th  June)    four 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  423 

members  of  the  committee  of  general  safety  came  to 
the  Tower  to  make  sure  that  the  Prince  was  really 
dead.    When  they  were  admitted  to  the  death-chamber 
by  Lasne  and  Damont  they  affected  the  greatest  in- 
difference.     "  The  event  is   not  of   the   least   impor- 
tance," they  repeated,  several  times  over ;  "  the  police 
commissary  of  the  section  will  come  and  receive  the 
declaration  of  the   decease;    he  will   acknowledge  it, 
and  proceed  to  the  interment  without  any  ceremony; 
and  the  committee  will  give  the  necessary  directions." 
As  they  withdrew,  some  officers  of  the  Temple  guard 
asked  to  see  the  remains  of  little  Capet.    Damont  hav- 
ing observed  that  the  guard  would  not  permit  the  bier 
to  pass  without  its  being  opened,  the  deputies  decided 
that  the  officers  and  non-commissioned  officers  of  the 
guard  going  off  duty,  together  with  those  coming  on, 
should  be  all  invited  to  assure  themselves  of  the  child's 
death.     All  having  assembled  in  the  room  where  the 
body  lay,  he  asked  them  if  they  recognised  it  as  that 
of  the  ex-Dauphin,  son  of  the  last  King  of  France. 
Those  who  had  seen  the  young  Prince  at  the  Tuileries, 
or  at  the  Temple  (and  most  of  them  had),  bore  wit- 
ness to  its  being  the  body  of  Louis  XVII.     When 
they  were  come  down  into  the  council-room,  Darlot 
drew  up  the  minutes  of  this  attestation,  which  was 
signed  by  a  score  of  persons.    These  minutes  were  in- 
serted in  the  journal  of  the  Temple  tower,  which  was 
afterwards  deposited  in  the  office  of  the  Minister  of 
the  Interior. 

During  this  visit  the  surgeons  entrusted  with  the 
autopsy  arrived  at  the  outer  gate  of  the  Temple. 
These  were  Dumangin,  head  physician  of  the  Hos- 
pice de  l'Unite;  Pelletan,  head  surgeon  of  the  Grand 
Hospice  de  l'Humanite;  Jeanroy,  professor  in  the 
medical  schools  of  Paris;  and  Lassus,  professor  of 
legal  medicine  at  the  Ecole  de  Sante  of  Paris.     The 


424  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

last  two  were  selected  by  Dumangin  and  Pelletan  be- 
cause of  the  former  connection  of  M.  Lassus  with 
Mesdames  de  France,  and  of  M.  Jeanroy  with  the 
House  of  Lorraine,  which  gave  a  peculiar  weight  to 
their  signatures.  Gomin  received  them  in  the  council- 
room,  and  detained  them  until  the  National  Guard, 
descending  from  the  second  floor,  entered  to  sign 
the  minutes  prepared  by  Darlot.  This  done,  Lasne, 
Darlot,  and  Bouquet  went  up  again  with  the  surgeons, 
and  introduced  them  into  the  apartment  of  Louis 
XVII.,  whom  they  at  first  examined  as  he  lay  on  his 
death-bed;  but  M.  Jeanroy  observing  that  the  dim 
light  of  this  room  was  but  little  favourable  to  the 
accomplishment  of  their  mission,  the  commissaries 
prepared  a  table  in  the  first  room,  near  the  window, 
on  which  the  corpse  was  laid,  and  the  surgeons  began 
their  melancholy  operation. 

At  seven  o'clock  the  police  commissary  ordered 
the  body  to  be  taken  up,  and  that  they  should  pro- 
ceed to  the  cemetery.  It  was  the  season  of  the 
longest  days,  and  therefore  the  interment  did  not  take 
place  in  secrecy  and  at  night,  as  some  misinformed 
narrators  have  said  or  written;  it  took  place  in  broad 
daylight,  and  attracted  a  great  concourse  of  people 
before  the  gates  of  the  Temple  palace.  One  of  the 
municipals  wished  to  have  the  coffin  carried  out  se- 
cretly by  the  door  opening  into  the  chapel  enclosure; 
but  M.  Dusser,  police  commissary,  who  was  specially 
entrusted  with  the  arrangement  of  the  ceremony, 
opposed  this  indecorous  measure,  and  the  procession 
passed  out  through  the  great  gate.  The  crowd  that 
was  pressing  round  was  kept  back,  and  compelled  to 
keep  a  line,  by  a  tricoloured  ribbon,  held  at  short 
distances  by  gendarmes.  Compassion  and  sorrow  were 
impressed  on  every  countenance. 

A  small  detachment  of  the  troops  of  the  line  from 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  425 

the  garrison  of  Paris,  sent  by  the  authorities,  was 
waiting  to  serve  as  an  escort.  The  bier,  still  covered 
with  the  pall,  was  carried  on  a  litter  on  the  shoulders 
of  four  men,  who  relieved  each  other  two  at  a  time; 
it  was  preceded  by  six  or  eight  men,  headed  by  a  ser- 
geant. The  procession  was  accompanied  a  long  way 
by  the  crowd,  and  a  great  number  of  persons  followed 
it  even  to  the  cemetery.  The  name  of  "  Little  Capet," 
and  the  more  popular  title  of  Dauphin,  spread  from  lip 
to  lip,  with  exclamations  of  pity  and  compassion.  The 
funeral  entered  the  cemetery  of  Ste.  Marguerite,  not 
by  the  church,  as  some  accounts  assert,  but  by  the  old 
gate  of  the  cemetery.  The  interment  was  made  in 
the  corner,  on  the  left,  at  a  distance  of  eight  or  nine 
feet  from  the  enclosure  wall,  and  at  an  equal  distance 
from  a  small  house,  which  subsequently  served  as  a 
school.  The  grave  was  filled  up, — no  mound  marked 
its  place, — and  not  even  a  trace  remained  of  the  inter- 
ment! Not  till  then  did  the  commissaries  of  police 
and  the  municipality  withdraw,  and  enter  the  house 
opposite  the  church  to  draw  up  the  declaration  of 
interment.  It  was  nearly  nine  o'clock,  and  still 
daylight. 

Release  of  Madame  Royale. — Her  Marriage  to  the 
Due  d'Angouleme. — Return   to   France. — Death 

The  last  person  to  hear  of  the  sad  events  in  the 
Temple  was  the  one  for  whom  they  had  the  deepest 
and  most  painful  interest.  After  her  brother's  death 
the  captivity  of  Madame  Royale  was  much  lightened. 
She  was  allowed  to  walk  in  the  Temple  gardens,  and 
to  receive  visits  from  some  ladies  of  the  old  Court, 
and  from  Madame  de  Chantereine,  who  at  last,  after 
several  times  evading  her  questions,  ventured  cau- 
tiously to  tell  her  of  the  deaths  of  her  mother,  aunt, 


426  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  brother.  Madame  Royale  wept  bitterly,  but  had 
much  difficulty  in  expressing  her  feelings.  "  She 
spoke  so  confusedly,"  says  Madame  de  la  Ramiere  in 
a  letter  to  Madame  de  Verneuil,  "  that  it  was  difficult 
to  understand  her.  It  took  her  more  than  a  month's 
reading  aloud,  with  careful  study  of  pronunciation,  to 
make  herself  intelligible, — so  much  had  she  lost  the 
power  of  expression."  She  was  dressed  with  plain- 
ness amounting  to  poverty,  and  her  hands  were  disfig- 
ured by  exposure  to  cold  and  by  the  menial  work  she 
had  been  so  long  accustomed  to  do  for  herself,  and 
which  it  was  difficult  to  persuade  her  to  leave  off. 
When  urged  to  accept  the  services  of  an  attendant, 
die  replied,  with  a  sad  prevision  of  the  vicissitudes  of 
her  future  life,  that  she  did  not  like  to  form  a  habit 
which  she  might  have  again  to  abandon.  She  suffered 
herself,  however,  to  be  persuaded  gradually  to  modify 
her  recluse  and  ascetic  habits.  It  was  well  she  did  so, 
as  a  preparation  for  the  great  changes  about  to  follow. 
Nine  days  after  the  death  of  her  brother,  the  city  of 
Orleans  interceded  for  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI., 
and  sent  deputies  to  the  Convention  to  pray  for  her 
deliverance  and  restoration  to  her  family.  Nantes 
followed  this  example;  and  Charette,  on  the  part  of 
the  Vendeans,  demanded,  as  a  condition  of  the  pacifi- 
cation of  La  Vendee,  that  the  Princess  should  be 
allowed  to  join  her  relations.  At  length  the  Conven- 
tion decreed  that  Madame  Royale  should  be  exchanged 
with  Austria  for  the  representatives  and  ministers 
whom  Dumouriez  had  given  up  to  the  Prince  of 
Cobourg, — Drouet,  Semonville,  Maret,  and  other 
prisoners  of  importance.  At  midnight  on  19th  De- 
cember, 1795,  which  was  her  birthday,  the  Princess 
was  released  from  prison,  the  Minister  of  the  Interior, 
M.  Benezech,  to  avoid  attracting  public  attention  and 
uossible  disturbance,  conducting  her  on  foot  from  the 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  427 

Temple  to  a  neighbouring  street,  where  his  carriage 
awaited  her.  She  made  it  her  particular  request  that 
Gomin,  who  had  been  so  devoted  to  her  brother, 
should  be  the  commissary  appointed  to  accompany  her 
to  the  frontier;  Madame  de  Soucy,  formerly  under- 
governess  to  the  children  of  France,  was  also  in  at- 
tendance ;  and  the  Princess  took  with  her  a  dog  named 
Coco,  which  had  belonged  to  Louis  XVI.  She  was 
frequently  recognised  on  her  way  through  France,  and 
always  with  marks  of  pleasure  and  respect. 

It  might  have  been  supposed  that  the  Princess 
would  rejoice  to  leave  behind  her  the  country  which 
had  been  the  scene  of  so  many  horrors  and  such 
bitter  suffering.  But  it  was  her  birthplace,  and  it 
held  the  graves  of  all  she  loved;  and  as  she  crossed 
the  frontier  she  said  to  those  around  her,  "  I  leave 
France  with  regret,  for  I  shall  never  cease  to  consider 
it  my  country."  She  arrived  in  Vienna  on  9th  Janu- 
ary, 1796,  and  her  first  care  was  to  attend  a  memorial 
service  for  her  murdered  relatives.  After  many  weeks 
of  close  retirement  she  occasionally  began  to  appear  in 
public,  and  people  looked  with  interest  at  the  pale, 
grave,  slender  girl  of  seventeen,  dressed  in  the  deepest 
mourning,  over  whose  young  head  such  terrible  storms 
had  swept.  The  Emperor  wished  her  to  marry  the 
Archduke  Charles  of  Austria,  but  her  father  and 
mother  had,  even  in  the  cradle,  destined  her  hand  for 
her  cousin,  the  Due  d'Angouleme,  son  of  the  Comte 
d'Artois,  and  the  memory  of  their  lightest  wish  was 
law  to  her. 

Her  quiet  determination  entailed  anger  and  oppo- 
sition amounting  to  persecution.  Every  effort  was 
made  to  alienate  her  from  her  French  relations.  She 
was  urged  to  claim  Provence,  which  had  become  her 
own  if  Louis  XVIII.  was  to  be  considered  King  of 
France.      A    pressure    of    opinion    was    brought    to 


428  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

bear  upon  her  which  might  well  have  overawed  so 
young  a  girl.  "  I  was  sent  for  to  the  Emperor's 
cabinet,"  she  writes,  "  where  I  found  the  imperial 
family  assembled.  The  ministers  and  chief  imperial 
counsellors  were  also  present.  .  .  .  When  the  Em- 
peror invited  me  to  express  my  opinion,  I  answered 
that  to  be  able  to  treat  fittingly  of  such  interests  I 
thought  I  ought  to  be  surrounded  not  only  by  my 
mother's  relatives,  but  also  by  those  of  my  father. 
.  .  .  Besides,  I  said,  I  was  above  all  things  French, 
and  in  entire  subjection  to  the  laws  of  France,  which 
had  rendered  me  alternately  the  subject  of  the  King 
my  father,  the  King  my  brother,  and  the  King  my 
uncle,  and  that  I  would  yield  obedience  to  the  latter, 
whatever  might  be  his  commands.  This  declaration 
appeared  very  much  to  dissatisfy  all  who  were  pres- 
ent, and  when  they  observed  that  I  was  not  to  be 
shaken,  they  declared  that  my  right  being  independent 
of  my  will,  my  resistance  would  not  be  the  slightest 
obstacle  to  the  measures  they  might  deem  it  necessary 
to  adopt  for  the  preservation  of  my  interests." 

In  their  anxiety  to  make  a  German  princess  of 
Marie  Therese,  her  imperial  relations  suppressed  her 
French  title  as  much  as  possible.  When,  with  some 
difficulty,  the  Due  de  Grammont  succeeded  in  obtain- 
ing an  audience  of  her,  and  used  the  familiar  form  of 
address,  she  smiled  faintly,  and  bade  him  beware. 
"  Call  me  Madame  de  Bretagne,  or  de  Bourgogne,  or 
de  Lorraine,"  she  said,  "  for  here  I  am  so  identified 
with  these  provinces  that  I  shall  end  in  believing  in 
my  own  transformation."  After  these  discussions  she 
was  so  closely  watched,  and  so  many  restraints  were 
imposed  upon  her,  that  she  was  scarcely  less  a  pris- 
oner than  in  the  old  days  of  the  Temple,  though  her 
cage  was  this  time  gilded.  Rescue,  however,  was  at 
hand. 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  429 

In  1798  Louis  XVIII.  accepted  a  refuge  offered  to 
him  at  Mittau  by  the  Czar  Paul,  who  had  promised 
that  he  would  grant  his  guest's  first  request,  whatever 
it  might  be.  Louis  begged  the  Czar  to  use  his  in- 
fluence with  the  Court  of  Vienna  to  allow  his  niece  to 
join  him.  "  Monsieur,  my  brother,"  was  Paul's  an- 
swer, "  Madame  Royale  shall  be  restored  to  you,  or  I 
shall  cease  to  be  Paul  I."  Next  morning  the  Czar 
despatched  a  courier  to  Vienna  with  a  demand  for  the 
Princess,  so  energetically  worded  that  refusal  must 
have  been  followed  by  war.  Accordingly,  in  May, 
1799,  Madame  Royale  was  allowed  to  leave  the  capital 
which  she  had  found  so  uncongenial  an  asylum. 

In  the  old  ducal  castle  of  Mittau,  the  capital  of 
Courland,  Louis  XVIII.  and  his  wife,  with  their 
nephews,  the  Dues  d'Angouleme  and  de  Berri,  were 
awaiting  her,  attended  by  the  Abbe  Edgeworth,  as 
chief  ecclesiastic,  and  a  little  Court  of  refugee  nobles 
and  officers.  With  them  were  two  men  of  humbler 
position,  who  must  have  been  even  more  welcome  to 
Madame  Royale, — De  Maiden,  who  had  acted  as 
courier  to  Louis  XVI.  during  the  flight  to  Varennes, 
and  Turgi,  who  had  waited  on  the  Princesses  in  the 
Temple.  It  was  a  sad  meeting,  though  so  long 
anxiously  desired,  and  it  was  followed  on  10th  June, 
1799,  by  an  equally  sad  wedding, — exiles,  pensioners 
on  the  bounty  of  the  Russian  monarch,  fulfilling  an 
engagement  founded,  not  on  personal  preference,  but 
on  family  policy  and  reverence  for  the  wishes  of  the 
dead,  the  bride  and  bridegroom  had  small  cause  for 
rejoicing.  During  the  eighteen  months  of  tranquil 
seclusion  which  followed  her  marriage,  the  favourite 
occupation  of  the  Duchess  was  visiting  and  relieving 
the  poor.  In  January,  1801,  the  Czar  Paul,  in  com- 
pliance with  the  demand  of  Napoleon,  who  was  just 
then  the  object  of  his  capricious  enthusiasm,  ordered 


430  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  French  royal  family  to  leave  Mittau.  Their 
wanderings  commenced  on  the  21st,  a  day  of  bitter 
memories;  and  the  young  Duchess  led  the  King  to  his 
carriage  through  a  crowd  of  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren, whose  tears  and  blessings  attended  them  on  their 
way.  The  exiles  asked  permission  from  the  King  of 
Prussia  to  settle  in  his  dominions,  and  while  awaiting 
his  answer  at  Munich  they  were  painfully  surprised  by 
the  entrance  of  five  old  soldiers  of  noble  birth,  part  of 
the  body-guard  they  had  left  behind  at  Mittau,  relying 
on  the  protection  of  Paul.  The  "  mad  Czar  "  had  de- 
creed their  immediate  expulsion,  and,  penniless  and 
almost  starving,  they  made  their  way  to  Louis  XVIII. 
All  the  money  the  royal  family  possessed  was  bestowed 
on  these  faithful  servants,  who  came  to  them  in  de- 
tachments for  relief,  and  then  the  Duchess  offered 
her  diamonds  to  the  Danish  consul  for  an  advance  of 
two  thousand  ducats,  saying  she  pledged  her  property 
"  that  in  our  common  distress  it  may  be  rendered  of 
real  use  to  my  uncle,  his  faithful  servants,  and  my- 
self." The  Duchess's  consistent  and  unselfish  kind- 
ness procured  her  from  the  King,  and  those  about 
him  who  knew  her  best,  the  name  of  "  our  angel." 

Warsaw  was  for  a  brief  time  the  resting-place  of 
the  wanderers,  but  there  they  were  disturbed  in  1803 
by  Napoleon's  attempt  to  threaten  and  bribe  Louis 
XVIII.  into  abdication.  It  was  suggested  that  refusal 
might  bring  upon  them  expulsion  from  Prussia. 
"  We  are  accustomed  to  suffering,"  was  the  King's 
answer,  "  and  we  do  not  dread  poverty.  I  would, 
trusting  in  God,  seek  another  asylum."  In  1808,  after 
many  changes  of  scene,  this  asylum  was  sought  in  Eng- 
land, Gosfield  Hall,  Essex,  being  placed  at  their  dis- 
posal by  the  Marquis  of  Buckingham.  From  Gosfield, 
the  King  moved  to  Hartwell  Hall,  a  fine  old  Eliza- 
bethan mansion  rented  from  Sir  George  Lee  for  £500 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  431 

a  year.  A  yearly  grant  of  £24,000  was  made  to  the 
exiled  family  by  the  British  Government,  out  of  which 
a  hundred  and  forty  persons  were  supported,  the  royal 
dinner-party  generally  numbering  two  dozen. 

At  Hartwell,  as  in  her  other  homes,  the  Duchess  was 
most  popular  amongst  the  poor.  In  general  society 
she  was  cold  and  reserved,  and  she  disliked  the  notice 
of  strangers.  In  March,  18 14,  the  royalist  successes 
at  Bordeaux  paved  the  way  for  the  restoration  of  roy- 
alty in  France,  and  amidst  general  sympathy  and  con- 
gratulation, with  the  Prince  Regent  himself  to  wish 
them  good  fortune,  the  King,  the  Duchess,  and  their 
suite  left  Hartwell  in  April,  18 14.  The  return  to 
France  was  as  triumphant  as  a  somewhat  half-hearted 
and  doubtful  enthusiasm  could  make  it,  and  most  of 
such  cordiality  as  there  was  fell  to  the  share  of  the 
Duchess.  As  she  passed  to  Notre-Dame  in  May, 
1814,  on  entering  Paris,  she  was  vociferously  greeted. 
The  feeling  of  loyalty,  however,  was  not  much  longer- 
lived  than  the  applause  by  which  it  was  expressed; 
the  Duchess  had  scarcely  effected  one  of  the  strong- 
est wishes  of  her  heart, — the  identification  of  what 
remained  of  her  parents'  bodies,  and  the  magnifi- 
cent ceremony  with  which  they  were  removed  from 
the  cemetery  of  the  Madeleine  to  the  Abbey  of  St. 
Denis, — when  the  escape  of  Napoleon  from  Elba  in 
February,  181 5,  scattered  the  royal  family  and  their 
followers  like  chaff  before  the  wind.  The  Due 
d'Angouleme,  compelled  to  capitulate  at  Toulouse, 
sailed  from  Cette  in  a  Swedish  vessel.  The  Comte 
d'Artois,  the  Due  de  Berri,  and  the  Prince  de  Conde 
withdrew  beyond  the  frontier.  The  King  fled  from 
the  capital.  The  Duchesse  d'Angouleme,  then  at 
Bordeaux  celebrating  the  anniversary  of  the  Proclama- 
tion of  Louis  XVIII. ,  alone  of  all  her  family  made 
any  stand  against  the  general  panic.     Day  after  day 


432  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

she  mounted  her  horse  and  reviewed  the  National 
Guard.  She  made  personal  and  even  passionate 
appeals  to  the  officers  and  men,  standing  firm,  and 
prevailing  on  a  handful  of  soldiers  to  remain  by  her, 
even  when  the  imperialist  troops  were  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river  and  their  cannon  were  directed 
against  the  square  where  the  Duchess  was  reviewing 
her  scanty  followers.  With  pain  and  difficulty  she 
was  convinced  that  resistance  was  vain;  Napoleon's 
banner  soon  floated  over  Bordeaux;  the  Duchess  issued 
a  farewell  proclamation  to  her  "  brave  Bordelais," 
and  on  the  ist  April,  1815,  she  started  for  Pouillac, 
whence  she  embarked  for  Spain.  During  a  brief  visit 
to  England  she  heard  that  the  reign  of  a  hundred 
days  was  over,  and  the  27th  of  July,  18 15,  saw  her 
second  triumphal  return  to  the  Tuileries.  She  did 
not  take  up  her  abode  there  with  any  wish  for  State 
ceremonies  or  Court  gaieties.  Her  life  was  as  secluded 
as  her  position  would  allow.  Her  favourite  retreat 
was  the  Pavilion,  which  had  been  inhabited  by  her 
mother,  and  in  her  little  oratory  she  collected  relics 
of  her  family,  over  which  on  the  anniversaries  of  their 
deaths  she  wept  and  prayed.  In  her  daily  drives 
through  Paris  she  scrupulously  avoided  the  spot  on 
which  they  had  suffered;  and  the  memory  of  the  past 
seemed  to  rule  all  her  sad  and  self-denying  life,  both 
in  what  she  did  and  what  she  refrained  from  doing. 
Her  somewhat  austere  goodness  was  not  of  a  nature 
to  make  her  popular.  The  few  who  really  understood 
her  loved  her,  but  the  majority  of  her  pleasure-seeking 
subjects  regarded  her  either  with  ridicule  or  dread. 
She  is  said  to  have  taken  no  part  in  politics,  and  to 
have  exerted  no  influence  in  public  affairs,  but  her 
sympathies  were  well  known,  and  "  the  very  word  lib- 
erty made  her  shudder;"  like  Madame  Roland,  she  had 
seen  "  so  many  crimes  perpetrated  under  that  name." 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  433 

The  claims  of  three  pretended  Dauphins — Herva- 
gault,  the  son  of  the  tailor  of  St.  Lo;  Bruneau,  son 
of  the  shoemaker  of  Vergin;  and  Naundorf  or  Norn- 
dorff,  the  watchmaker — somewhat  troubled  her  peace, 
but  never  for  a  moment  obtained  her  sanction.  Of 
the  many  other  pseudo-Dauphins  (said  to  number  a 
dozen  and  a  half)  not  even  the  names  remain.  In 
February,  1820,  a  fresh  tragedy  befell  the  royal  family 
in  the  assassination  of  the  Due  de  Berri,  brother-in- 
law  of  the  Duchesse  d'Angouleme,  as  he  was  seeing  his 
wife  into  her  carriage  at  the  door  of  the  Opera-house. 
He  was  carried  into  the  theatre,  and  there  the  dying 
Prince  and  his  wife  were  joined  by  the  Duchess,  who 
remained  till  he  breathed  his  last,  and  was  present 
when  he,  too,  was  laid  in  the  Abbey  of  St.  Denis. 
She  was  present  also  when  his  son,  the  Due  de  Bor- 
deaux, was  born,  and  hoped  that  she  saw  in  him  a 
guarantee  for  the  stability  of  royalty  in  France.  In 
September,  1824,  she  stood  by  the  death-bed  of  Louis 
XVIII.,  and  thenceforward  her  chief  occupation  was 
directing  the  education  of  the  little  Due  de  Bordeaux, 
who  generally  resided  with  her  at  Villeneuve  l'Etang, 
her  country  house  near  St.  Cloud.  Thence  she  went 
in  July,  1830,  to  the  Baths  of  Vichy,  stopping  at 
Dijon  on  her  way  to  Paris,  and  visiting  the  theatre  on 
the  evening  of  the  27th.  She  was  received  with  "  a 
roar  of  execrations  and  seditious  cries,"  and  knew 
only  too  well  what  they  signified.  She  instantly  left 
the  theatre  and  proceeded  to  Tonnere,  where  she 
received  news  of  the  rising  in  Paris,  and,  quitting  the 
town  by  night,  was  driven  to  Joigny  with  three  attend- 
ants. Soon  after  leaving  that  place  it  was  thought 
more  prudent  that  the  party  should  separate  and  pro- 
ceed on  foot,  and  the  Duchess  and  M.  de  Foucigny, 
disguised  as  peasants,  entered  Versailles  arm-in-arm, 
to  obtain  tidings  of  the  King.     The  Duchess  found 


434  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

him  at  Rambouillet  with  her  husband,  the  Dauphin, 
and  the  King  met  her  with  a  request  for  "  pardon," 
being  fully  conscious,  too  late,  that  his  unwise  decrees 
and  his  headlong  flight  had  destroyed  the  last  hopes 
of  his  family.  The  act  of  abdication  followed,  by 
which  the  prospect  of  royalty  passed  from  the  Dauphin 
and  his  wife,  as  well  as  from  Charles  X. — Henri  V. 
being  proclaimed  King,  and  the  Due  d'Orleans  (who 
refused  to  take  the  boy  monarch  under  his  personal 
protection)  lieutenant-general  of  the  kingdom. 

Then  began  the  Duchess's  third  expatriation.  At 
Cherbourg  the  royal  family,  accompanied  by  the  little 
King  without  a  kingdom,  embarked  in  the  Great 
Britain,  which  stood  out  to  sea.  The  Duchess,  re- 
maining on  deck  for  a  last  look  at  the  coast  of 
France,  noticed  a  brig  which  kept,  she  thought,  suspi- 
ciously near  them. 

"Who  commands  that  vessel?"  she  inquired. 

"  Captain  Thibault." 

"  And  what  are  his  orders?  " 

"  To  fire  into  and  sink  the  vessels  in  which 
we  sail,  should  any  attempt  be  made  to  return  to 
France." 

Such  was  the  farewell  of  their  subjects  to  the 
House  of  Bourbon.  The  fugitives  landed  at  Wey- 
mouth; the  Duchesse  d'Angouleme  under  the  title  of 
Comtesse  de  Marne,  the  Duchesse  de  Berri  as  Com- 
tesse  de  Rosny,  and  her  son,  Henri  de  Bordeaux,  as 
Comte  de  Chambord,  the  title  he  retained  till  his 
death,  originally  taken  from  the  estate  presented  to 
him  in  infancy  by  his  enthusiastic  people.  Holyrood, 
with  its  royal  and  gloomy  associations,  was  their 
appointed  dwelling.  The  Due  and  Duchesse  d'An- 
gouleme, and  the  daughter  of  the  Due  de  Berri, 
travelled  thither  by  land,  the  King  and  the  young 
Comte  de  Chambord  by  sea.     "  I  prefer  my  route  to 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  435 

that  of  my  sister,"  observed  the  latter,  "  because  I  shall 
see  the  coast  of  France  again,  and  she  will  not." 

The  French  Government  soon  complained  that  at 
Holyrood  the  exiles  were  still  too  near  their  native 
land,  and  accordingly,  in  1832,  Charles  X.,  with  his 
son  and  grandson,  left  Scotland  for  Hamburg,  while 
the  Duchesse  d'Angouleme  and  her  niece  repaired  to 
Vienna.    The  family  were  reunited  at  Prague  in  1833, 
where  the  birthday  of  the  Comte  de  Chambord  was 
celebrated    with    some    pomp    and    rejoicing,    many 
Legitimists   flocking  thither  to   congratulate   him   on 
attaining  the  age  of  thirteen,  which  the  old  law  of 
monarchical  France  had  fixed  as  the  majority  of  her 
princes.      Three   years   later   the   wanderings   of   the 
unfortunate  family  recommenced;  the  Emperor  Fran- 
cis II.  was  dead,  and  his  successor,  Ferdinand,  must 
visit  Prague  to  be  crowned,  and  Charles  X.   feared 
that  the  presence  of  a  discrowned  monarch  might  be 
embarrassing  on  such  an  occasion.     Illness  and  sor- 
row attended  the  exiles  on  their  new  journey,  and  a 
few  months  after  they  were  established  in  the  Chateau 
of  Graffenburg  at  Goritz,  Charles  X.  died  of  cholera, 
in  his  eightieth  year.     At  Goritz,   also,  on  the  31st 
May,   1844,  the  Duchesse  d'Angouleme,  who  had  sat 
beside  so  many  death-beds,  watched  over  that  of  her 
husband.     Theirs  had  not  been  a  marriage  of  affec- 
tion in  youth,  but  they  respected  each  other's  virtues, 
and  to  a  great  extent  shared  each  other's  tastes;  ban- 
ishment and  suffering  had  united  them  very  closely, 
and  of  late  years  they  had  been  almost  inseparable, 
— walking,  riding,  and  reading  together.     When  the 
Duchesse  d'Angouleme  had  seen  her  husband  laid  by 
his  father's  side  in  the  vault  of  the  Franciscan  con- 
vent,   she,    accompanied    by    her    nephew    and    niece, 
removed  to  Frohsdorf,  where  they  spent  seven  tran- 
quil years.     Here  she  was  addressed  as  "  Queen  "  by 


436  THE  MEMOIRS  OF 

her  household  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  but  she 
herself  always  recognised  Henri,  Comte  de  Cham- 
bord,  as  her  sovereign.  The  Duchess  lived  to  see  the 
overthrow  of  Louis  Philippe,  the  usurper  of  the  inher- 
itance of  her  family.  Her  last  attempt  to  exert 
herself  was  a  characteristic  one.  She  tried  to  rise 
from  a  sick-bed  in  order  to  attend  the  memorial  ser- 
vice held  for  her  mother,  Marie  Antoinette,  on  the 
16th  October,  the  anniversary  of  her  execution.  But 
her  strength  was  not  equal  to  the  task;  on  the  19th 
she  expired,  with  her  hand  in  that  of  the  Comte  de 
Chambord,  and  on  28th  October,  1851,  Marie  Therese 
Charlotte,  Duchesse  d'Angouleme,  was  buried  in  the 
Franciscan  convent. 

The  Ceremony  of  Expiation 

"  In  the  spring  of  1814  a  ceremony  took  place  in 
Paris  at  which  I  was  present  because  there  was 
nothing  in  it  that  could  be  mortifying  to  a  French 
heart.  The  death  of  Louis  XVI.  had  long  been 
admitted  to  be  one  of  the  most  serious  misfortunes  of 
the  Revolution.  The  Emperor  Napoleon  never  spoke 
of  that  sovereign  but  in  terms  of  the  highest  respect, 
and  always  prefixed  the  epithet  unfortunate  to  his 
name.  The  ceremony  to  which  I  allude  was  proposed 
by  the  Emperor  of  Russia  and  the  King  of  Prussia. 
It  consisted  of  a  kind  of  expiation  and  purification  of 
the  spot  on  which  Louis  XVI.  and  his  Queen  were 
beheaded.  I  went  to  see  the  ceremony,  and  I  had  a 
place  at  a  window  in  the  hotel  of  Madame  de  Remusat, 
next  to  the  Hotel  de  Crillon,  and  what  was  termed 
the  Hotel  de  Courlande. 

"  The  expiation  took  place  on  the  10th  of  April. 
The  weather  was  extremely  fine  and  warm  for  the 
season.    The  Emperor  of  Russia  and  King  of  Prussia, 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  437 

accompanied  by  Prince  Schwartzenberg,  took  their 
station  at  the  entrance  of  the  Rue  Royale;  the  King 
of  Prussia  being  on  the  right  of  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander, and  Prince  Schwartzenberg  on  his  left.  There 
was  a  long  parade,  during  which  the  Russian,  Prus- 
sian, and  Austrian  military  bands  vied  with  each  other 
in  playing  the  air,  '  Vive  Henri  IV. ! '  The  cavalry 
defiled  past,  and  then  withdrew  into  the  Champs- 
Elysees;  but  the  infantry  ranged  themselves  round 
an  altar  which  was  raised  in  the  middle  of  the  Place, 
and  which  was  elevated  on  a  platform  having  twelve 
or  fifteen  steps.  The  Emperor  of  Russia  alighted 
from  his  horse,  and,  followed  by  the  King  of  Prussia, 
the  Grand  Duke  Constantine,  Lord  Cathcart,  and 
Prince  Schwartzenberg,  advanced  to  the  altar.  When 
the  Emperor  had  nearly  reached  the  altar  the  '  Te 
Deum '  commenced.  At  the  moment  of  the  benedic- 
tion, the  sovereigns  and  persons  who  accompanied 
them,  as  well  as  the  twenty-five  thousand  troops  who 
covered  the  Place,  all  knelt  down.  The  Greek  priest 
presented  the  cross  to  the  Emperor  Alexander,  who 
kissed  it;  his  example  was  followed  by  the  individuals 
who  accompanied  him,  though  they  were  not  of  the 
Greek  faith.  On  rising,  the  Grand  Duke  Constantine 
took  off  his  hat,  and  immediately  salvoes  of  artillery 
were  heard." 


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